


a little song left on this island

by hologramwithyou



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M, Sort Of, Ten starts a streaming channel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-13 18:02:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 24,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29530284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hologramwithyou/pseuds/hologramwithyou
Summary: ten loses his job and has to find...creative solutions for his problems. enter, kim doyoung, the last person on earth that ten would ever ask for help.
Relationships: Dong Si Cheng | WinWin/Jung Yoonoh | Jaehyun, Huang Ren Jun/Wong Yuk Hei | Lucas, Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung/Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten, Lee Taeyong/Suh Youngho | Johnny, Nakamoto Yuta/Qian Kun, side pairings are brief
Comments: 6
Kudos: 13





	1. Social Media Ruined Everything

**Author's Note:**

> this randomly popped in my head and I thought about posting it for valentines day, but it quickly went from a drabble to a full story. then i planned to complete it by ten's day, but it's a monster that I have yet to complete. it's still ten's birthday here so I decided to post the first part. tentatively i'm thinking this will be 2-3 parts, but who knows. the words just keep coming out. my excuse is that there is not enough doten in this fandom and i will correct that myself if i have to :D

It starts, as most things do, with money.

Ten’s entire inner circle, having seemingly decided to stop being uncommitted bachelors at the same time, quietly partner up without sending him the memo. First, it’s Yukhei, who leaves the pet-filled trash heap they lovingly refer to as their apartment for his rich boyfriend’s sensible two-floor walk-up. Then, like ducklings waddling after their mother, eager to imitate her movements, the rest of them follow. Ten, ever the individualist, doesn’t realize he’s been left behind until it’s too late to catch up. Not that he would want to. He enjoys the single life. 

Sicheng finally breaks the years long friendship barrier with Jaehyun and moves in with his new boyfriend after six months. Taeyong finally gets over his commitment issues and agrees to cohabitating with his long-term giant, Johnny. Then—the most unexpected development of them all—the guy that everyone assumes is stringing Kun along for some easy, no commitment sex turns out to be a keeper, confessing desire to move past friends with benefits to Ten’s best friend at 2am, Naruto-themed slippers over his socked feet as he stands in their doorway proclaiming his love. From five, they slowly dwindle down to two, but even that doesn’t last.

Because of the proximity of Yuta’s apartment to their own, a scant block away, Kun agrees to move in after mere months of “dating,” claiming that if things go sour he can always come back with minimal fuss. Even in loving recklessly and wholeheartedly, Kun is pragmatic.

The problem is not that Ten’s friends abandon him in what he had once charmingly called the “Palace of Disaster Gays (plus Kun).” No, each of his friends is far too kind and considerate to leave him out in his own.

The real problem is that his _oh so lovely_ former roommates are terrible at recommending new roommates. Each replacement that moves in is worse than the last. Of his four roommates, only one of them, Moon Taeil, is around his age. Not that he acts like it. The other three are an even bigger mess. Yangyang, Kun’s recommendation, is the poster boy for Gen Z idiocy. Sicheng’s pick, Xiaojun, is far too emotional and argumentative over small things, and Kunhang, Lucas’ friend, is a committed stoner with less of a personality and more of a blatantly baked stare. In the few months that Ten spends in the apartment after his last close friend had left, he deals with Taeil’s constant jokes, Xiaojun’s tantrums, a steady odor of skunks, and Yangyang’s bizarre TikTok antics.

He resolves to move out and manages it, much to the surprise of literally everyone he knows. It’s not easy to find a semi-decent apartment in the city that allows pets and has a decent layout, but he does it. Sure, he has to give up living in the Gayborhood and his rent now takes up sixty percent of his income, but it’s manageable. Louis and Leon enjoy their new, Bella-free environment as much as he expected. His small kitchen is cozy, his bathroom small but spacious enough that he doesn’t feel like he’s living in one of those shoebox apartments in NYC that get shown on shows about extreme living spaces. Sure he doesn’t have a tub, and his living room is full of secondhand furniture. He can’t afford to replace his mattress and summer is going to be a bitch without air conditioning. But aside from all that, Ten manages. He is living large (figuratively) on his own terms!

That is, until work cuts his hours.

The dance studio Ten works at is not particularly renown, nor is it a particularly great place to work. It is, however, smack dab in the middle of one of Seoul’s most affluent neighborhoods, which means that he makes good money for the amount of work he has to do (which is not a lot). Unfortunately, that’s where the perks begin and end.

  
The studio is run by some young, social media-oriented manager who seems to think that the best way grow their clientele is by hiring three new dance instructors, all with sizeable online presence. Sure, it gets them more attention, but it also leads to a reduction in work for the rest of them. The worst part is, Ten gets almost no notice. One week, he has a full schedule, the next, his hours get cut by half, with some young Youtube zumba starlet taking over his usual night classes.

The thing about Ten is, he’s not a long-term thinker. His emergency fund is pitiful at best, he’s still paying back a few credit cards, and most of his paycheck goes toward his rent. Plus, he has cats to spoil. In other words, he’s screwed if he doesn’t find another source of income. He shudders at the thought of becoming homeless with two pampered pets and an expansive wardrobe to haul around. The streets would not be kind to him.

He calls up Kun first, barely holding it together on the phone when Kun helps him go over his future expenses to see just how much time he’s got before he might get evicted. Luckily, he’s already paid his rent for the month, and the landlord allows a two week grace period for first-time late payments, so he has about five weeks to figure something out. Kun helps him create a budget for the meantime and comes over with multiple containers of food so that he doesn’t need to buy groceries. Ten nearly cries when he sees the braised fish that he loves among the dishes.

Kun is the one who tells him he should text the groupchat, so that everyone knows and can offer support. It’s embarrassing, truthfully. Ten hates being anything less than self-sufficient. He put himself through college after his parents suffered major financial losses in his senior year of high school. He moved to Korea on his own and made it work. It’s painful now to have his independence threatened like this.

His friends don’t judge him, thankfully. Taeyong tells him he’ll keep an eye out for openings at the entertainment company where he works and Yukhei sends him any openings he see on job websites, for dancers or otherwise. It’s nice to feel supported. Especially since it felt like he was losing his safety net when his friends all moved out. He even manages to get Sicheng to come over and cuddle (an absolute rarity). Of course, his friends are still busy with their own lives, so their support is mostly given virtually. But it’s appreciated all the same, especially because it serves as a reminder to Ten that he hasn’t lost anything or anyone, it’s just the circumstances that have changed.

*

Why Ten accepts an invitation for brunch from his former roommate Taeil of all people, he doesn’t know. Well, actually, he does know. Now that all of his closest friends are juggling committed relationships with careers and maintaining their own living spaces, Ten hardly has anyone to hang out with. Sure, Xiaojun and Kunhang are cool (when he’s not living with them), and if he’s in the mood for dumb 21-year-old fun he can call up Yangyang, but Ten misses having a squad, a group of people you can sit with for hours. He misses drinking bellinis one after the other and talking about bad hookups. He misses shopping trips with Taeyong and bickering with Kun over home décor. He even misses Yukhei’s gross heterosexual-like adoration of luxury cars. Even Sicheng’s near-silent constant presence is missed.

So, he agrees to brunch with Taeil, hoping it will take his mind off his troubles and not just drain his wallet of money he shouldn’t be spending. He almost immediately regrets it when he gets there. Alongside Taeil are Donghyuck, a quiet kid named Jisung, and surprisingly, Yukhei’s boyfriend Renjun.

“Ten hyung?”

“Hello, Renjun-ah. What are you doing here?”

“Hyuckie is my best friend and he was Taeil hyung’s tutee in college. I didn’t know you knew him?”

“Yeah, we lived together for a bit,” Ten explains.

Brunch is about as far from the animated, raucous type of event Ten remembers. Taeil is nice enough. Ten thinks that given the chance they could actually become friends. However, he’s also about as adventurous as a gin and tonic. He actively cares about “adult” things like carbon footprints, indie cinema and saving up for a mortgage. You wouldn’t know it from his playful jokes, but Taeil is probably one romantic relationship away from being settled, and Ten isn’t emotionally ready to lose another good friend to commitment. He resolves to keep Taeil at arms’ length, maybe.

Donghyuck is in every way the opposite of Taeil, openly admitting to everyone at the table that he’s hungover from a night of blackout drinking. It explains the rumpled club outfit he’s still wearing, but Ten can’t bring himself to consider the younger a kindred spirit when he spends the majority of their brunch eating like a caveman. When he’s not stuffing his face, he’s moaning about his love life. Ten gets a headache.

Renjun is the biggest enigma, dating one of the wildest people Ten knows while simultaneously being the lovable human embodiment of ASMR. His calm demeanor in the midst of a sea of chaos is nice, but not the kind of energy Ten needs right now, especially at brunch. Jisung just sits there, eating.

Eventually, talk turns to Ten’s new apartment, which Taeil is curious about. It could be the three bellinis he’s had in an attempt to stay invested in this mess of a brunch, but for some reason he mentions his financial situation.

“It’s really great, amazing even. I love living on my own and my cats love it too. But my hours at work got cut heavily, so I need to find another job unless I want to be homeless in the near future.”

Renjun bites at his lip, asking what his options are. He seems genuinely concerned, and Ten is quietly happy at how lucky his friend is to have found such a good, kind-hearted person for a boyfriend.

“I’m thinking of offering dance lessons on the side, maybe some workshops,” he says.

Jisung perks up at that, shyly mentioning he has a couple of friends that would be into something like that. Ten hands the kid a card with his number on it, just in case. It’s just about the only thing the youngest says during the entirety of their meal.

“You could always become a camboy and do livestreams,” Donghyuck suggests through a mouthful of eggs benedict. Ten physically recoils. These baby gays and their unapologetic lack of manners. _Ewww._

“We’re not all exhibitionists like you, Hyuckie,” Taeil states, pinching the youngest’s cheek.

“Yes, thank you for the suggestion, Donghyuck, but I have a future career to think about and I’m not comfortable getting off for strangers in exchange for money.”

Donghyuck swallows the biggest bite of food Ten has ever seen before speaking. “It doesn’t have to be a sex thing. There’s this new app for streamers. It’s called Freely. People do all kinds of streams and people who subscribe to your channel pay a weekly fee. Plus they can give you tips.”

“Sounds legit,” Ten deadpans.

“Hey,” Donghyuck raises his hands in mock surrender. “My friend Jeno makes twice his weekly paycheck on there for every stream he does.”

Ten’s eyes widen. “What kind of content is he uploading?”

Donghyuck smirks. “He makes out with his boyfriend.”

“That’s it?” Ten asks, flabbergasted.

“Yup,” Donghyuck says, popping the ‘p.’ “Every couple of days they film themselves making out for hours on end and people eat that shit up.”

“This Gen Z lack of intimacy is getting to you all. Who the hell would pay for something like that?” Ten wonders aloud.

“Lots of people! Some people say it makes good ASMR background noise, Others just like seeing the closeness. Other people are pervs who constantly ask them to fuck. I don’t blame them, though. Jeno and Nana are hot as fuck. I’d pay for a sex stream.”

Renjun slaps his arm, “Gross, Hyuck, we’ve known them since middle school!”

Ten tunes them out, his mind already planning. If Donghyuck isn’t pulling his leg (and that’s a very big if, the kid seems like an actual demon), Ten could make enough money to pay his rent and still have some left over. That would free up some of his time to find a better job in his field. 

“It might be something to consider, Ten hyung,” Renjun suggests lightly.

This is where Ten ends up, when the money is starting to run out. Sitting at brunch with people he’s not particularly sure he can be friends with (minus Renjun), resolving to become a kiss streamer.

*

Telling his friends about his new plan for getting through this financial slump turns Sicheng’s birthday dinner into an all-together disastrous experience.

It’s three weeks until he’s out of time and every day he gets more and more worried about what will become of him and his cats if he doesn’t find something. So far, he’s had only three second interviews for jobs, none of which have led to anything. He’s even tried speaking with the studio owner about his situation, but she insists she can’t do anything about giving him more hours. If he weren’t already desperate, he’d quit on the spot. So much for being a valued member of the team.

Suffice to say, Ten is looking forward to his friend’s birthday. In the past, birthdays were celebrated primarily among the five of them, Johnny sometimes tagging along by virtue of being the only significant other and being close with them all. When they did host bigger events, they still kept it small, college friends joining them for nights on the town. Birthdays are fun, they help Ten forget about his woes, and they tend to get him the best hook-ups.

This time, the entire dynamic is different.

Not only does Ten end up playing 9th wheel to four couples who are all still in their honeymoon phase (even Taeyong and Johnny, blegh). That would be bad enough on its own. However, he’s also forced to sit at the single end of the table, away from his friends, between Johnny’s younger friend Mark, Jungwoo, and Doyoung.

Mark, bless his heart, is nice, but he’s about as fun as wallpaper. The two times that Ten tries to strike up a conversation he somehow brings up his ex-boyfriend and becomes the human equivalent of a deflated souffle. Jungwoo, for his part is as fun and bright as he was in college. Ten makes a mental reminder to call him up more so they can revel in their single status together. Then there’s Doyoung.

It’s not that Ten hates Doyoung. He doesn’t.

They’ve just never been close, even though they share most of the same friends. For whatever reason, in college Doyoung decided that he and Ten would never be friends and made no efforts of civility toward him. Ten, being the prideful little prick he is (he is self-aware, despite what people may think!), acted in kind. The end result was years of petty bickering and ignoring each other that led their friends to stop trying to force a friendship.

Ten doesn’t particularly mind the loss. You have to care about someone to miss them, or even hate them. He and Doyoung don’t care for each other at all, so there’s no love lost between them. He ignores the other, who seems happy to do the same, and engages Jungwoo in a discussion about his job. The younger is a veterinary assistant and he delights in seeing photos of Ten’s beloved cats.

Renjun, predictably tired of listening to Yukhei chatter on about basketball, turns to Ten.

“Any luck with your situation, hyung?” he asks.

Ten frowns, not keen to divulge the status of his job hunt in front of the one person who could possibly find joy in his situation, but still responds.

“No, I’ve been looking, but nothing so far.”

“What’s going on?” Jungwoo asks curiously. “What are you looking for?”

Ten sighs, “My job cut my hours by half. I’ve been looking for a replacement, but I haven’t found anything so far.”

“Oh no, that’s terrible,” Jungwoo frets, pulling him into a conciliatory hug that actually feels genuine. Ten really should spend more time with him.

“Have you considered what Hyuckie said?” Renjun asks, keeping his voice down. He appreciates the younger’s tact.

He nods, glancing at Doyoung for a second but finding the other engrossed in his phone. He feels a little less awkward, knowing the other probably isn’t listening.

“Yeah, and it’s looking like the most likely option.”

“What is it?” Jungwoo asks.

Ten debates whether he should speak about it here, especially with his friends close by. He hasn’t exactly mentioned it to them, worried they’ll judge him for even considering it. But Jungwoo is his friend as well, and Ten is starting to think he should get a second opinion. Plus, Doyoung is clearly too engrossed in his phone to be paying attention. Even if he is, Ten doubts he’d be that big of a dick to make fun of him when he’s down and out and resorting to less...respectable means of making money.

He explains Donghyuck’s suggestion to Jungwoo and the apparent success his friends have found doing it. Jungwoo doesn’t make faces or try to dissuade him, just nods in understanding and offers his reservations.

“Do you have anyone you’d be willing to do that with long-term? Sounds pretty intimate, hyung. And you said it’s just kissing? What if it becomes more than that?”

He doesn’t get a chance to respond. Doyoung snorts loudly, making it clear he’s been eavesdropping this whole time.

“You’re going to become a camboy? How am I not surprised?”

Clearly, he underestimated Doyoung’s penchant for being literal human garbage. He blushes, furious at the implications. But before he can tell the other to shut the fuck up, Mark and his drunken self exclaim, “Oh, I have a friend who does that!”

“Does what?” Yukhei asks, turning away from a sports conversation with Jaehyun at the worst moment.

Ten’s tongue is heavy, sluggish to speak, which gives Mark the chance to loudly exclaim, “He’s a camboy! Like Ten! Well, not like that. He just helps his boyfriend with his stream. They kiss…a lot...”

The rest of Mark’s incoherent drunken ramblings fade into the background as he feels everyone at the table turn to him. Yukhei looks disturbed.

“What's he talking about, hyung? Are you a camboy?” 

“Oh god, tell me you didn’t, Ten,” Kun groans exasperatedly. “I know you’re not that stupid."

“I’m sure it’s just a mistake. Right, Tennie?” Taeyong asks, looking for confirmation. Possibly reassurance. That grates on Ten’s nerves, to be quite honest. Why does he have to give others answers when he barely has any for himself?

“I’m not! I’m not a camboy or whatever. And I don’t know anything about Mark’s friend. I just was hanging out with Taeil and some guys and they told me about their friend. He’s a streamer. He does kissing livestreams with his boyfriend,” he defends himself.

“Sounds like my friend!” Mark yells out, Jungwoo hushing him kindly.

“What does that have to do with you, then?” Johnny raises an eyebrow.

“Taeil’s friend suggested I do something similar, just to pay my bills in the meantime.”

The table chatter increases. Jaehyun shakes his head and Kun scoffs. Even Yuta grimaces.

“You’re not seriously considering it,” Kun says decisively.

“That won’t end well, Ten,” Johnny states matter-of-factly.

“Well I’d love to pay my bills the old-fashioned way, but I can’t get anyone to hire me, so I guess this is a matter of serious consideration.” He rips the napkin in front of him to shreds, unwillingly to meet anyone’s eyes.

“You’re going to ruin your life if you do this,” Doyoung says, not a shred of sympathy in his voice.

“He’s right,” Kun agrees.

“You shouldn’t even consider it! What the hell? What are you doing?” Yukhei looks genuinely flabbergasted at the thought.

“Jesus Christ, I didn’t come here to be berated by my friends,” Ten spits out through gritted teeth. His eyes are prickling with unshed tears, but he’s not the type to let others see him at his lowest. “Can we just talk about something else?”

“We’re not trying to berate you, Tennie.” Taeyong says sympathetically. “We just don’t think this is a good idea.”

“Yeah, hyung,” Sicheng speaks. “I’m sure there’s other things you could do that don’t require you to make out with strangers for money. That’s not something a person like you should resort to.”

It’s not said hurtfully, Sicheng is far too kind to be malicious, but Ten’s heart hurts anyway. It’s so easy to judge others when you aren’t in their place. So easy to judge people for doing things you view as beneath them.

“I think we should let Ten hyung decide things for himself,” says Renjun (the angel). Ten doesn’t miss Yukhei frowning next to him.

“If you want, I can try to talk to my boss, see if he’s interested in hiring someone else,” Johnny offers.

“There are other options. Why not look for another studio? This livestream stuff might come back to bite you in the ass. You don’t want to get a reputation,” Jaehyun cautions.

Ten feels like pulling his hair out. “Do you all think I haven’t tried? Really, is that what you think?”

“Ten—“ Kun interjects, but he’s not having it. “Shredding Ten’s failing self esteem” hours are officially over.

“I’ve called up every studio in the city, applied for every job I can find, even the ones I’m blatantly overqualified for. I’m offering private lessons and workshops. I’m doing everything I can!”

Jungwoo rubs at his back soothingly, but it doesn’t help. He doesn’t want to be here. He can’t be here. Everyone thinks they know better, everyone thinks he’s not doing enough, not being smart enough, not working hard enough. Not being enough, period. The employers, his studio, his own friends. Nothing Ten does ever measures up, and he’s left to deal with people like Doyoung, with their perfect lives, judging him for not being at their level.

“I’m sorry that my life is a fucking mess and I’m sorry that I have to resort to something you all think is so low, but that’s the fucking hand I’ve been dealt and I’m dealing with it the best I can. We can’t all be perfect and lead perfect lives like you, Doyoung,” he snarls viciously.

If it hurts the other man even a fraction of how much he's been hurt here, he'll count it as a victory. But he won't hold his breath. Not for someone as heartless as Kim Dongyoung.

He pulls out his wallet, snatches his jacket off the back of his seat, and jerks away from Doyoung as the other reaches for his arm. He pulls out a twenty and throws it on the table, even though he’s only ordered one drink and he shouldn’t be wasteful with money at this stage. He’s not about to wait around and ask for his change.

“Happy birthday, Sicheng.”

He walks out, feeling heavier than he has in a long time, but with his head held high. He doesn’t shed a tear until the door to his apartment closes behind him. Yet again, his best isn’t good enough for anyone.

*

Ten doesn’t answer any texts or calls that aren’t work related for the next few days. It’s not that he’s angry, per se. He knows deep down that his friends only want the best for him, always. The nature of his problems, though, are not something that can be taken care of with well wishes or redundant advice from people that love him. Ten is in a real, financially grim situation. He doesn’t have a significant other to fall back on, or family that can help him. He only has himself.

He follows up on the various job applications he’s sent in to several retailers, most of which tell him the position has been filled. Others simply say he’s not what they’re looking for. Then he follows up with the few inquiries that have been made for private dance lessons, getting two new clients. It’s better than nothing, but it steels his resolve to do this streaming thing. His studio tells him they might need to cut his hours further. He cannot afford overlook this. He’s already looked up Donghyuck’s friends’ channel and seen just how fast the counter for tips rises. These two college kids are making good money, he’d be a fool not to try it.

Thursday morning as he’s getting ready for work, Doyoung calls. For a second, he’s confused. He could have sworn he’d deleted the other’s number in college when it became clear they’d never be the kind of people to text or call each other. Also, he would have thought his friends would’ve sent in Johnny to talk to him first, seeing as he and Ten are the closest outside of his inner circle. Maybe even Jaehyun if they think they need someone to pacify his anger. But Doyoung? Sure, he needs to respond to his friends’ messages, but there’s no need to sic this guy on Ten to anger him into making contact. He sends the call to voicemail and opens up the group chat.

Ten 7:39am

_hey. i know i haven’t responded to anyone’s messages, i’m not mad, i just needed time to get some things in order. but can you guys please not have other people call me to check in? it’s really annoying. i’ll respond to you all individually after work, promise._

His phone rings again—Doyoung. He once again sends it to voicemail and looks through the chat, noting that everyone seems to be confused and apologetic. They didn't ask Doyoung to call him. A message comes through just as he thanks them for clarifying.

Doyoung 7:44am

_Hey, Ten. It’s Doyoung. If you’re busy, I can call at another time, but I’d really like to speak with you._

He laughs incredulously.

Ten 7:45am

_no thanks_

Doyoung 7:46am

_Don’t be difficult, please. I’d like to apologize_

He presses the call button, waiting only for one ring’s worth of time before Doyoung answers.

“How did you even get my number?”

“Hello to you, too.”

“I have work in a little over an hour and I have other shit to do, answer the question.”

“I’ve had it for years. Listen, Ten, I’d like to apologize for my behavior on Saturday. I was—”

“Cool, thanks, great chat! Let’s never interact again, bye!”

Doyoung’s exasperated voice calls out his name. “Can you act like an adult for one second?”

He simmers, “You’re the one calling _me_ , to apologize for being a judgmental dickhead with your unnecessary thoughts and opinions about my predicament on a day when I was already at my lowest. I don't think you're the adult here."

“I know, and I’m _trying_ to apologize.”

“WHY?” Ten asks, genuinely bewildered. “You’ve literally never apologized for any of the shit you’ve said to me in the past, why would you start now?”

“Don’t act like it’s been one-sided. You’ve been an asshole to me, too.”

“Fine, let’s just get this over with so we can both move on. I’m _sorry_ , Doyoung, for being such an asshole to you all those years ago. We’re not friends, we never will be, and we’ve both said some terrible shit to each other, but that’s no excuse for my past behavior. I’ll do better from now on, please forgive me.”

“You’re being flippant,” Doyoung accuses.

“Oh. My. GOD. I DON’T HAVE TIME FOR THIS!” he roars. “Did you miss the part where I am going to be homeless in two weeks if I can’t find a way to pay my rent. I’m wasting my time here with you while I could be finding a job or someone to make out with for money.”

“That’s what I’m trying to talk about!” Doyoung retorts. “I’m trying to apologize for being a dick, but I’m also trying to help you.”

Ten frowns, “Help me, how?”

“I was going to offer you a loan and I was—”

“Thanks but no thanks, I don’t think I want to make a deal with the Bank of Kim Doyoung.”

“Jesus Christ, can I fucking speak?!” Doyoung nearly shatters his eardrum as he yells over the tinny speaker.

“Okay, okay, jeez.” He rolls his eyes. He has no idea why everyone thinks HE’s the drama queen when Kim Dongyoung exists.

“I was going to offer you a loan until you get on your feet, but I was also going to offer to help you with your stream thing.”

Ten gasps, any irritation forgotten. He needs all the help he can get and he’s normally too proud to say yes to the literal bane of his existence, but not today, when the clock is ticking down to eviction at every second.

“How? Do you know someone who also needs money? I don’t care who it is, tell them I’ll take any help I can get with this streaming thing. I’m even down to split some of the profit.”

There’s a pause on the other end of the line before Doyoung says, in a suspiciously calm voice, “I don’t know anyone who would do this. I was going to offer to do it myself.”

He waits for the “gotcha!” It doesn’t come. He waits a few more seconds…one…two…three…four…

“You’re joking, right?”

“Okay, nevermind, I’m hanging up.”

“Wait! Don’t hang up. You’re serious? Why would you offer to do this? You literally said this would ruin my life, why would you offer to ruin yours as well. Oh my god, you’ve had a secret crush on me this whole time, haven’t you?” His mind is running, first and foremost at the thought of having to make out with Doyoung for money. It's...doable. Maybe.

“Only you, Ten, would look a gift horse in the mouth and still expect it not to kick you when you stand behind it, poking and prodding.”

He has a point.

“You’re not just messing with me, right? You’re not gonna back out at the last minute just to laugh at me? I’m already down, Doyoung. I don’t need you throw eggs at me from a limousine on prom night to make me feel even lower.”

“What the fuck? What are you even talking about—no, you know what? Don’t answer that. It’s not a joke, I’m being serious.”

“Okay,” Ten bites at the inside of his cheek. He runs a hand over his face, contemplating a reality in which Doyoung is his ticket out of financial instability. He hates it, absolutely fucking hates it. Owing anyone is the last thing he wants to do. But owing Doyoung? He’d rather die. Still, when he looks at Louis and Leon on the couch, looking thinner these days because Ten is rationing their snacks, he knows this is his only real option. Rent is due soon.

“Okay?”

“Yes, okay. You already embarrassed me in front of my friends. I can’t think of a better way to get back at you than forcing you to be in my presence for my own financial gain.”

The other sighs over the line, “I really am sorry about that. I know you think I’m the devil incarnate, but I’m really not usually such an asshole. I was way out of line and I won’t do that again. Also, I hope I didn’t fuck things up for you with everyone in the group.”

Despite not particularly wanting an apology from a person he doesn’t care about, Ten is happy to hear that the other is repentant for his actions.

“It’s fine, just don’t judge people like that, okay? You don’t know what they’re going through. We can’t all have a perfect life like you, Doyoung. Some of us are struggling behind the scenes.”

“…yeah, you’re right. I was judgemental. I won’t behave like that again.”

“Thank you. Now, when can you come over? Not to be annoying but I’d like to get started on this whole ‘selling my dignity’ for rent money sooner rather than later. My cats are giving me sad eyes. They’re hungry.”

*

Doyoung comes to his place on Saturday night, looking just like he always does in a knit sweater and jeans. Ten would offer him some fashion advice, but there’s no guarantee Doyoung won’t just walk out the door.

“Hey, come on in,” he says.

He surveys the living room one more time, making sure it’s clean. It is. He spent four hours cleaning every visible surface in his living room, bathroom, and kitchen, paranoid that Doyoung would come over and make fun of him for something like a stray furball or a dirty dish. He’s not particularly interested in giving the other more ammunition against him. He might say he’s not going to be an asshole anymore, but somehow the asshole slips out every time they’re in the same room, like clockwork.

“This is a nice place,” Doyoung comments. Louis, with no regard for propriety, immediately jumps into his lap once he’s seated on the couch.

“Louis!” Ten exclaims. “Bad boy! Leave him alone. You’re not allergic are you?”

“It’s okay, I’m not allergic,” the other replies, already scratching beneath the cat’s chin in a way that makes Louis purr deeply.

“Good. He’s usually not this forward with strangers.”

“He’s cute. You have other cats, right?”

“Just one, Leon. He’s a bit more shy. Likes to stay in my room when company comes over. Louis usually does, too. Not sure what’s gotten into him.”

He plucks the cat from Doyoung’s lap and places him on the ground.

“Let’s talk business. I don’t want to waste your time.”

“You’re not wasting my time, I told you I wanted to help you.”

“Yeah, I still don’t get why, but I’m not going to gift a horse in the hind legs like you said.”

Doyoung grimaces. “Let’s just stick to the idioms you know, yeah? Anyway, first let’s figure out your rent situation. When is it due?”

“In about two weeks. I managed to get an extension.”

"Okay, let’s tackle that first. How much is your rent usually, and how do you usually pay it?”

Ten gives a number and states that it’s usually taken from his bank account automatically because without autopay he’d never remember.

“That’s smart. Here’s what we’re going to do, for as long as you can’t pay your rent, be it one month or six months, I’ll help you pay it. You can borrow the full amount of your rent due or just enough to make up the difference in income. I’ll write you a check,” Doyoung explains.  
  


“What’s the catch?”

“There isn’t one,” the other states plainly.

“You’re not charging me interest? Is there a set time by which I need to have it all paid off? Are you going to take one of my kidneys if I can’t come up with the money by then?”

He’s mostly joking about that last point, but one can never be too sure when making a deal with the devil. Doyoung does not look amused.

“I’m not trying to fuck you over for my own pleasure, Ten. I’m just trying to get you back on your feet.”

“Who are you and what have you done with the real Kim Dongyoung?”

“I thought we agreed never to use each other’s real names, Chittaphon?”

“Touché.” It’s the one thing they agreed upon in college. Real names suck. “Okay, so you’ll help me pay my rent. Are you still willing to do this streaming thing with me?”

Doyoung hesitates, “Yeah…”

“You don’t sound so sure.”

“Are you sure it’s not a sex thing? It sounded like a sex thing, the way you described it,” he wrinkles his nose.

Ten huffs, blowing his hair out of his eyes. “Here, I’ll show you. Donghyuck, the kid who told me about the app, helped me make a profile last night.”

First he shows Doyoung his profile, clean and simple with minimal personal information. The tagline says it’s a kiss stream. That’s about it.

Then, he pulls up Jeno’s profile. He clicks on a random video and hands the phone to Doyoung, indicating he should watch it.

“You want anything to drink?” he asks when he’s already halfway to the kitchen.

“Water maybe?”

By the time he comes back with a glass of water for Doyoung, the other’s cheeks are flushed. He snickers.

“They’re good, right? It’s not a sex thing, but I don’t blame their subscribers for wanting it to be.”

Jeno and his boyfriend are…good-looking together. That’s the tame version. And they have a natural chemistry that shows even through this medium. They look like they’re in love, and they act like it too. It’s going to be hard to fake something like that between him and Doyoung, but Ten already has it covered.

“Okay, so I figure Jeno and his boyfriend have cornered the market on the whole ‘boyfriend kiss stream’ thin—"

“How is it that you know what ‘cornering the market means’ but you don’t know ‘looking a gift horse in the mouth’?” Doyoung interrupt.

Ten sighs exasperatedly, “I don’t live on a farm, do I? Why the hell would I need to know what that means?”

“It’s just a figure of expression!”

“You know, I’m ten seconds away from saying fuck it and using Louis for the stream. People love cats on camera and he doesn’t make me want to shoot my brains out.”

“Okay, I get it, you hate me. If you were a comedian, this would be the time to get some new material. Just say what you were going to say.”

“As I was saying before I was so _rudely_ interrupted,” he starts, giving Doyoung one last glare, “Jeno has the boyfriend angle locked down, so you and I have to go another route to avoid direct competition for viewers…” he trails off for effect.

Doyoung yawns, “Which is?”

“The awkward, but much loved ‘getting-to-know-you-after-a-period-of-will-they-won’t-they-friendship-that-turns-into-dating’ phase of a relationship.” He finishes with a flourish of hands.

Doyoung stares at him like he’s an oddity on display. “Yeah, okay, use your cat.” 

He makes to stand up but Ten pulls him back down onto the couch.

“Stop! Listen, it sounds weird, but I’ve figured it out. We just have to act like we’re newly in a relationship, just feeling each other out. Tentative but eager, shit like that.”

“You realize we’re not actors, right?” Doyoung scoffs. “How the hell are we supposed to pull that off?”

Ten thinks for a minute.

“Okay, let’s do a test run. Get out,” he shoos, waving the other off the couch.

“What the hell?”

“Go outside, wait two minutes, put on your best improv face—yes I _know_ you don’t have one, just pretend! Knock on the door and follow my lead, okay?”

He watches the other do exactly as he says and then runs into his room for his camera. Luckily, he thought to charge it last night. He puts it on the television stand, directly in front of the couch and makes sure its on.

He gives himself a minute to really get into a not-hating-Doyoung space and stands up as soon as the doorbell rings. Showtime.

He smiles softly as he opens the door, almost losing his cool when he sees the other just standing there stupidly, but the camera is on and Ten told Donghyuck he would get some footage for a channel trailer of sorts. He pushes on.

“Hi, I missed you,” he whispers, reaching out to take the other’s sweaty hand and resisting the urge to gag at his own words.

He leads Doyoung into the living room once again, not letting go of his hand until they’re sitting on the couch, facing each other. He senses that the older is about to break character (not that he was in character to begin with) and decides to force the act a bit more. He places a hand Doyoung’s thigh, then leans in, making sure to speak loud enough for the camera to pick it up.

“I’m glad you came over,” he says, staring straight into the other’s eyes.

Doyoung swallows, playing up the nervous energy. He’s a natural already! “I’m glad I came over, too.”

They share a soft smile and Ten almost leans in, but then he thinks better of it.

“Can I get you anything? Water? Something to eat?” He hopes Doyoung doesn’t say something stupid. Asking for food right now would ruin their flow.

“No, I’m fine with just you, I don’t need anything else.”

_Yes!!_ he thinks. This isn’t going to be a totally uphill battle.

“You didn’t kiss me on our first date? Did I do something wrong?” he asks, pretending to bite at his lip in anxiety.

“No, you were perfect. I was just nervous.”

“I think I know something that will get rid of your nerves,” he says.

Smiling the whole time, he places his hands on Doyoung’s shoulders and leans in. He feels Doyoung subtly pull back, perhaps even unconsciously. They’ve never willingly been this close to each other before. But Ten’s not about to give up the game when his financial future is at stake, so he curls his fingers to hold the other in place and finally does what he needs to.

Kissing Kim Doyoung has never been on Ten’s bucket list, but he has to admit that if it were, he’d be pretty satisfied right about now. His mouth is soft and his lips are pleasantly coated in strawberry lipbalm. He doesn’t have spearmint breath like Ten, but he also doesn’t taste much like anything except coffee. It’s chaste, not particularly deep, but it’s also not gross or slobbery. On a scale of one to ten, he scores solidly in the upper half, which is more than Ten can reasonably say for his last few one-night stands.

He feels Doyoung’s legs fidgeting and senses his hands doing the same, so he stops the kiss.

“Don’t be shy,” he breathes, noting the red on the other’s cheeks and feeling it on his own. He’d forgotten how exhausting making out can be when it’s not with someone you’re into. “You can touch me.”

He scoots closer, forcing Doyoung to turn further toward him. Like this, only their profiles will be visible to the camera. He takes the other’s hands and wraps them around his waist, placing his own on the other’s shoulders. Doyoung seems to get bolder with this new position, taking the initiative and kissing harder. Ten feels a warm tongue press against the seam of his lips and grants permission.

It goes on for a while, kissing deeply, separating briefly with Ten pressing soft kisses to the corners of Doyoung’s smile as they catching their breath, then repeating it all over again. At this point it feels like they’ve both been wasting their lives by not going into acting. That’s how confident he is in their act. Doyoung’s warm fingers rub circles into his lower back and he allows his hands to comb through the older’s hair, making sure not to block the camera's angle.

Finally, after what feels like hours but is most likely only fifteen minutes, he pulls back.

“I think I got what we needed!” He claps his hands, pulling himself off the couch and over toward the tv stand. It’s then that Doyoung sees the camera for the first time.

“You were recording us?” he asks incredulously. Ten gawks at him, already rewinding the footage. "I thought it was just practice!"

“You do know what livestreaming is, right? When we do this, we’ll be recording ourselves for people to see in real time. We have to practice for the camera before we do it for the channel!”

“I didn’t even know the camera was there! I didn’t consent,” Doyoung complains.

“Well, it’s too late for that now.”

Doyoung insists on seeing the footage before he does anything with it, so he lets him.

“I look terrible.”

Ten rolls his eyes, “You look hot and like you know how to kiss. Trust me, this is good enough. Besides people won't care what we look like as long as we're making out.”

He sends the video off to Donghyuck, who promised to edit his trailer for a modest sum, and leads a still-protesting Doyoung to the door.

“Text me what you need to cover your rent payment, I’ll get it to you,” Doyoung promises.

“I will…” Ten hesitates, then decides to get it over with. “Thank you, for this. You didn’t have to help me, especially given our history of mutual dislike.”

Doyoung frowns. “I know we’ve had our issues, but that wouldn’t deter me from helping you out. No one deserves to have the employment rug pulled out from under them like that. Speaking of employment, have you found anything else yet?”

  
He shakes his head. “Nope. So far I’ve been rejected or ghosted for everything I’ve applied to.”

“Don’t worry, you’ll get something. In the meantime, you have this.” It's the nicest conversation they've ever had.

He starts a Facetime the minute Doyoung leaves.

After Sicheng’s birthday, everyone reached out (even Mark, god knows why) and apologized. Despite his penchant for holding grudges, Ten accepted each and every well-meaning message that came through. It’s hard to stay mad at the people who love you and care for you. He did make it clear that he would not accept criticism of his choice to start a streaming channel, but thankfully everyone realized how judgemental they were being.

Taeyong picks up immediately, the rest not yet connected. “Ten! I’ve missed you. How are things?”

He doesn’t get the chance to respond before Kun and Jungwoo join.

“What’s up guys? Sicheng is with me,” Kun says, panning the camera over to said man who waves. “We’re getting lunch.”

“Let’s wait for Yukhei, then I’ll tell you alllllllll about my day.”

“I was just with him,” Jungwoo says. He seems to be walking down the street. “He and Renjun are going on a trip to China so they’re buying new luggage.”

Ten sighs dramatically. “Then I guess he’s going to miss the story!”

“What’s the story? Oh, Johnny’s here by the way. Should I ask him to leave?” Taeyong asks.

Johnny appears on screen briefly, holding up a snack-filled hand in salute, mouth disgustingly full of popcorn already. “’M not leaving. You can go into the bedroom,” he says through a mouthful.

  
“Are we interrupting you two?” Kun laughs.

“Nope, we’re re-watching House of Cards, but I’m getting bored. It’s not as good the second time around.”

Johnny says something in response but Ten pays him no mind.

“I just wanted to let you all know that I’m officially starting my channel soon! And today I had my first test run.”

Jungwoo cheers. Sicheng gasps, though it turns out to be because their food gets delivered and it looks delicious, as Ten sees when they turn the camera toward their plates.

“Are we allowed to watch?” Taeyong asks cheekily.

“If you subscribe to my channel, then sure.”

“Don’t tempt me, Tennie. You’re hot when you’re making out with people. Even Johnny agrees!” The camera pans to the giant oaf, who nods and gives a thumbs up.

“How much are you charging your subscribers?” Kun asks, taking a sip of a drink that looks insanely good. Fuck being poor, he’s tired of only being able to drink water. Brunch seems a lifetime away.

“It’s two bucks a week, so 8 per month. I figure that’s not outrageous, right?” he asks. “I did the math, if I get 100 subscribers, that covers what I’m short on for rent and utilities, plus basic necessities. Anything I get from people who pay for access to single streams or give tips would go toward extra groceries and other expenses.”

“Sounds reasonable,” Jungwoo nods.

“Donghyuck thinks it’s a little low, but I told him I have to get established first before I raise prices.”

“Is he the one you’re working with for your channel? Isn’t be a bit young? I don’t think Taeil would approve,” Taeyong tuts.

“No! God no, he’s a baby gay with a tragic lack of table manners. No, he’s just helping me with setting up the channel. Doyoung is the one who’s helping me out with content.”

Kun coughs up a fit, mid-sip, and has to be whacked on the back by Sicheng. Taeyong frowns and goes out of frame almost immediately. From what Ten can guess, he’s fighting Johnny for control of the phone and losing badly.

“You’re making out with Doyoung for your channel?” Johnny laughs gleefully, face far too close to the camera. “How’d you get him to agree to that?”

“For your information, _Johnald_ , he volunteered,” Ten retorts.

“You’re joking?” Sicheng asks incredulous.

“Why would he volunteer to help you? No offense, hyung, but you two are the literal definition of fighting like cats and dogs,” Jungwoo points out.

“We’re not that bad...” It's a lie.

“We haven’t hung out as a full group for years because you two don’t get along.” Taeyong’s face becomes contemplative. “Unless, you two are moving past your differences.”

“Or maybe Ten’s old crush on Doyoung has made a reappearance,” Kun muses.

“God, no. That was a level of insanity from which I have now recovered, thank you very much!”

“Then how do you explain the fact that you agreed to his help? You’re going to be making out with him for rent money. That doesn’t sound like hatred to me.” Kun smiles smugly. Ten hates him.

“I’ve never hated Doyoung, I just found his entire being irritating. And I need money because I like where I live and I don’t want to be evicted. The two things aren’t mutually exclusive. I can find him irritating and still use his help.”

“I don’t get why Doyoung hyung volunteered,” Sicheng says. “He’s a pretty private person and his job’s pretty serious. Why would he offer to do something that could bring him negative attention?”

“Who knows? Listen, I wasn’t about to ask questions. He offered help, I took him up on the offer. End of story.”

“Well, just be careful, Ten,” Taeyong says. “I know it seems like nothing big right now but sharing that kind of intimacy can fuck with your head. And neither of you is particularly good at shutting off your emotions.”

“We’ll be fine. It’s just a bit of kissing.”

Just a bit of kissing for money. With Kim Doyoung of all people. A piece of cake, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading!!! :D


	2. Human Being Kim Doyoung

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm truly not sure how this got so long :0 I tried to edit it as best as I could but I have some other tasks to do so there might be some errors :(
> 
> I'm going to be out of town for a bit and then I'm going to focus on the next chapter of KTNS, so the third part of this will tentatively be posted some time in april??? then again, I've had a bunch of inspiration for this story lately so it might be done sooner.

Their first stream starts much the same as the practice one, with Ten giving both Doyoung and himself a little pep talk and then running over the gist of dialogue they might exchange. He doesn’t go as far as scripting it out, because he wants this to be natural. People on the internet can always tell when someone is lying.

He starts the stream at the scheduled time and goes to open the door, starting with the same “Hi, I missed you” from before, because it seems to get them both in the mindset for acting.They recycle most of the dialogue, because that’s what feels easiest. By the time they start kissing, Ten feels like he’s got his head in the game.

The same cannot be said for Doyoung, who seems to startle every time a chiming sound sounds out from Ten’s laptop speakers. There’s really only a couple of viewers, commenting and occasionally tipping, but the noise generated by each of these activities seems to rip the older out of the scene they’re creating every other minute.

“Hey,” he says as he pulls away. Doyoung’s eyes are wide and he’s biting his lip. Nerves are getting the best of him and it’s fucking up Ten’s flow. “Don’t be so stiff. It’s just me, you already know I like you, you don’t have to be shy.”

The laptop chimes even more. These viewers must be ridiculously deprived of intimacy, if Ten’s bullshit romantic dialogue is making them comment and tip this much. There aren’t even that many of them watching.

“’m just nervous. I haven’t been with anyone like this in a while.”

“You’re here with me, now. I want you, so just relax.”

The angle is terrible for the camera to capture as Ten moves to nibble on Doyoung’s ear, but he figures that leaving a bit to the imagination is also good in some ways. Doyoung’s gasp as Ten’s tongue laves at his earlobe should be enough to get people’s mind’s working overtime with speculation about his actions.

They kiss for longer than Ten’s ever spent kissing someone without advancing to the next base. The digital clock he’s set up on a bookshelf tells him it’s been nearly forty-five minutes; that was the amount of time per stream that they’d agreed upon.

It’s _nice_ , all things considered. Doyoung is a considerate kisser, and Ten is happy to find that his dominant (and snobby) personality doesn’t translate into a pushy approach to making out. Ten might be petite and relatively weak in terms of physical strength—his strength is in his words, thank you very much—but he’s never much liked the idea of being submissive to another man. The male ego is already enough of a turn off, stoking macho delusions of manliness and authority through intimacy with his sexual partners would only make things worse.

Doyoung doesn’t try to lead or force him to adapt, but he also doesn’t follow. If Ten had to liken this oral exchange to anything, it would be to a dance. Both partners playing their chosen roles with an understanding of the flow between their movements. There’s very little friction, very little opposition. They each take turns initiating, like a back-and-forth volley. The rhythm is unhurried, but never lazy. The emotions they’re trying to convey are not delivered in frantic passion. It isn’t a daytime soap opera or a drama type of exchange. It is comfortable but never boring. There’s no build-up to a peak, just a placid continuation of the previous moment. It’s what Ten imagines kissing would be like for a couple who have spent many years together. He can bregrudgingly admi to himself that Doyoung is an amazing actor.

His phone begins vibrating off-camera, the alarm acting as a “call” coming in, the loosely-scripted ending to this scene they’ve planned.

“Oh, that must be my mom. She said she’d call me today.”

“You should probably answer, then. I have to get going anyway. I work early tomorrow.”

Tomorrow is Friday, so he’s probably not lying. They end the stream with a promise to meet again soon.

The minute Ten turns off the camera, Doyoung flops back on the couch.

“I thought you had to leave?”

“And I thought you had a call. We’re acting, aren’t we?” Doyoung raises an eyebrow.

“You know, you’re still as annoying as you were in college. I expected you would have grown out of it by now.”

He doesn’t say it to be mean or start an argument. Ten can’t help his entirely too blunt observations sometimes.

“Funny, I could say the same for you.”

“My personality is great!” he argues. “It’s only boring people who think I’m annoying.”

“Sure, Ten, whatever you say. Can I have some water? I didn’t realize how dehydrating it is to swap saliva for almost an hour.”

He comes back from the kitchen only to chuck a water bottle at Doyoung’s head. The other tuts after a successful ducking.

“Still as violent as ever.”

“I was never violent!”

“You put Kun in a chokehold after he accidentally broke your signed Girls Generation CD.”

“It was a jewel case! I told him not to drop it. Also, you’re not some great pacifist yourself. Remember when you yelled at a freshman for getting coffee all over your midterm paper that one time?”  
  


“You saw that?”

“The whole school did. We also saw how you made her cry.”  
  


Doyoung’s eyes get a faraway look, like he’s stuck in an unpleasant remembrance of the past. “I apologized. And I took her out for lunch afterward. I felt really bad about it. I was just stressed.”  
  
“You must’ve been stressed a lot, then, because you were a huge prick to anyone you didn’t want to deal with.”

For a second, Ten thinks he’s overstepped and braces. He doesn’t mean to say shit like to provoke the other. It’s just a natural consequence of always being on his toes around the other. They’ve traded barbs for so long that sometimes it feels like there will never be a time when they speak to each other normally.

Doyoung’s mouth opens and closes, words failing to come out.

“Yeah…I mean, you’re not wrong. I was a jerk to a lot of people.”

The self-awareness is…new. At least, admitting it in front of Ten is new. They’re not at that level yet, where they can bring up uncomfortable truths about each other like it’s no big deal. They probably won’t ever be. But Doyoung is nothing if not adept at turning Ten’s tables, and this easy admittance of fault makes Ten squirm. It’s unexpected, but he manages.

“Eh, we were all jerks back then. I especially acted like a dick during evals. It’s whatever. College, you know?”

One admittance of a character flaw exchanged for another. They’re really not so different from each other. But it does the trick and seems to snap Doyoung out of his reverie, returning his gaze to the present.

“I’d better go. I’m sure you have things to do.”

“If you count searching job listings and crying into a pint of Ben & Jerry’s ‘things,’ then sure. Things to do,” Ten laughs sadly, then immediately regrets it.

Doyoung hasn’t fundamentally changed, despite his promise to help and his newfound ability to admit that he wasn’t the nicest person in college. Admitting his lows to the other won’t make him less critical than he’s been. He’s probably chiding Ten in his mind right now. _Dance isn’t a field of stable employment, Chittaphon._

“I’m sure things will get better. Just, hang in there,” he pats Ten’s arm stiltedly.

It’s almost a relief when he leaves. Ten’s not sure how they can fit together in this evolving dynamic.

*

Their second video is where things really start.

The people who were initially tempted by the channel trailer and the free preview of his first live are now showing up. Some pay only for access to the current live, but others are subscribing monthly. It’s nothing big, only a handful of people, and they might decide not to keep spending money on Ten’s content, but at this point, any supplemental income is good enough.

He greets Doyoung in the same manner as before, but this time they get right into it, very few words exchanged. Over the phone a few days ago, Doyoung admitted that too much speaking fucks with his tempo, so Ten resolves to keep the talking to a minimum if they can.

The kissing is the same as it’s been so far, if not a bit less hesitant, though that might just be from the general lack of arguments they’ve gotten into lately.

There’s been more civil communication between them in the past two weeks than there has been in the entirety of their acquaintanceship. It is mostly about their ‘work’ arrangement, but sometimes they speak about other things. Ten asks for feedback for a cover letter he’s writing, and sometimes Doyoung asks for gift recommendations for his coworkers. There’s even been a few memes back and forth, though their senses of humor are different enough that almost every joke between them requires an explanation that undermines the joke altogether.

It’s admittedly strange to hold back from purposely pushing Doyoung’s buttons. This is the longest they’ve had regular contact with no dramatics save for the normal bickering between them. Doyoung suggests Ten get another couch, Ten suggests he get another face, and so forth. It ends there. No cutting remarks, no mean-spirited jabs meant to knock the other off course.

It’s strangely pleasant. Had it always been like this between them, maybe their friend group wouldn’t be so divided now. But the past is the past, and right now Ten has his hands in Doyoung’s hair, waiting for the other to pull away when his phone vibrates in his pocket. That’s their cue that time’s up.

The longer this goes on the more they ease up, muscles loosening. Ten’s hands rest on Doyoung’s thighs when they’re not running through his hair. Doyoung seems to like putting his hands on Ten’s waist or shoulders. They part every so often to catch their breath, and Ten buries his face in Doyoung’s neck, enjoying the smell of his cologne. Then they dive back in and begin all over again.

This time, when Ten turns off the camera, Doyoung gets off the couch immediately.

“Got somewhere to be?”

“My parents are expecting me for dinner.” Doyoung explains.

“It’s a little late for dinner, isn’t it?”

Ten’s scheduled stream starts at 8pm, because people are busy during the day, according to Donghyuck’s advice. It’s nearly 9pm right now, and despite the fact that Ten is an avowed night owl, most people don’t eat this late.

“It’s a…” Doyoung pauses. He looks like he’s thinking hard for the right word. “It’s a business dinner of sorts.”

“You’re doing business with your parents? I guess that’s better than doing business with friends, but only slightly.”

“I’m doing business with you, aren’t I?”

“Do I count as a friend?” Ten asks.

Doyoung looks at him like he’s utterly stupid. “I don’t go around kissing my mortal enemies, Ten.”

He feels a stirring in his chest…so he ruins the moment.

“Well, maybe I do.”

“Considering your promiscuity in college, I’d say that’s about right.”

“If that’s an insult, you should know I’m not even the least bit offended. What’s life without a bit of fun?”

“You have your fun, some of us like to live life away from the edge,” Doyoung states as he crosses the threshold and stands outside Ten’s apartment.

For a second, Ten muses to himself that this one doorway defines everything about their current relationship. Past the threshold, in the outside world, Ten is Ten and Doyoung is Doyoung, as mutually unintelligible to each other as they’ve always been. But when the older crosses the boundary and passes into Ten’s space a lightness infuses their push-pull history so that neither of them really acts in the aloof manner that they’re both so used to from each other. It feels like something more than a temporary truce in that moment. Then they go back to square one again.

“One day I’ll drag you out with me, force you to have fun.”

“That sounds almost as terrifying as dinner with my parents.”

“Damn, did something happen?”

It’s no secret to anyone they know that Doyoung’s parents are well-to-do members of the upper crust. They’ve always had and still have high expectations for both of their sons. That’s why he was such a high achiever in university. But it’s also not a secret that they’re a close-knit family. Doyoung is the light of his parents’ life, as far as Ten knows, though maybe that’s changed.

“Things are…different lately. Between my parents and I. Nothing major, just life changes.”

“Well, sometimes change is good. Think of it that way.”  
  


“I didn’t used to think change could ever be good. But now, I’m starting to think it can be. Anyway, it’s just a minor disagreement.”

“Hopefully things get settled soon between you. Have a good dinner with your family.”

“Good night, get some rest.”

*

Their sixth stream gets a ridiculous amount of traffic, partly because Donghyuck has learned how to fuck with the app’s algorithm to get the channel more visibility and partly because he convinced Jeno to promote Ten on his channel. With any luck, this will convert casuals into subscribers.

It’s still early, but Ten already feels lighter, especially when he sees the money they’ve earned so far.

There’s a steady clink of tips and pings from new comments sounding through the speakers on his laptop, but Ten doesn’t pay them any mind. There’s been a lot of comments on past streams about how nice it is that they focus on each other and not the camera, so he’s giving the people what they want.

There’s also been other comments that he’s taken note of, including ones about the awkwardness of their sitting position, so he decides to change it up. Of course, Ten wouldn’t be himself if he gave Doyoung a heads up about the last minute change. He takes a certain type of enjoyment from fucking with Doyoung’s expectations. He’s just so _uptight_ and resistant. Ten can’t stand the rigidity.

Now he’s in Doyoung’s lap, laptop and camera resting on the bookshelf off to the side. Doyoung recovered quite easily from the shock of Ten dropping onto his legs, which was annoying because it lessened Ten’s fun, but the initial surprise on his face was real, and it only makes their cover story of being a new couple all that much more credible.

In this position, he feels a shift in the dynamic. Like he’s leading Doyoung instead of sharing the dominant role. If the other minds, he doesn’t show it. Even if he does mind, Ten’s not going to change a single thing. He’s the captain now.

He wraps his arms around Doyoung’s neck, careful not to block the camera’s view. Doyoung’s hands rest on his waist, warm and solid. It dawns on Ten that maybe Taeyong had a point when he said the intimacy could fuck with him. It’s been a long time since he’s been in this position with someone. Life was hectic even before his work screwed him over. His last boyfriend was in college. If there’s anything Ten needs right now, it’s intimacy.

Instead, he’s making out with someone for money. Pity that. Doyoung distracts him from his sad single thoughts with a soft bite to his lower lip. He groans.

“Don’t be a bad boy,” he chides softly, only half-joking. He’s not expecting the shiver that seems to pass through Doyoung’s spine when he processes the words.

He feels…almost powerful. No matter the history between them, Doyoung is like any other man. Ten can take him apart just like all the others. 

It’s no secret to anyone, least of all the men that Ten ensnares, that he likes to play these kinds of games. Sex has always been first and foremost about getting off. Kissing was always just a necessary introduction to the heavy stuff. Ten plays games to win, and he hasn’t lost yet.

Now, though, kissing is the whole of it. There’s no satisfying release coming after all the making out, just lips on lips, hands above the waist at all times, and very little more than some tongue action to break the repetitive act of kissing.

But it’s not monotonous, and that’s the kicker.

As much as Ten views Doyoung as the boring opposite to his own exciting self, it’s clear that Doyoung is capable. He’s not the most passionate kisser Ten’s ever encountered, but there’s really no need for him to be passionate. It’s not like they’re actually together. He’s dependable, which isn’t the most flattering compliment, but is one that fits. Anytime Ten switches up the tempo or tries to throw him off his rhythm, Doyoung seamlessly adapts. Yet again, he’s reminded of a dance. Especially when Doyoung’s hands move to rub circles into his lower back. They reciprocate each other’s faux caresses with no awkwardness.

Ten revels in the playfulness of it all. He doesn’t question anything, just goes along, equally satisfied with the work they’ve done (can they call it work?) as he usually is at the end of a hook-up. There’s a sense of ease so far, and it seems like Doyoung feels the same, since he deigns to give Ten a small smile once the camera is off. This is getting less awkward every time.

He just needs to remember that the intimacy is fake. That’s doable. They’re not even friends, really, so drawing boundaries between the real and the fake won’t be hard. Maybe it would also be a good idea not to invite Doyoung to dinner after they film. To keep the boundaries clear between them. But Ten doesn’t think about that until it’s too late and he’s already done it.

“You want to get dinner together?” Doyoung repeats, as if checking to make sure he’s heard right.

“I mean, _we_ don’t have to. I can go by myself. I’m just starving and I thought you might be, too. No biggie.”

It is a biggie, though. Ten has not willingly had a meal in the same space as Doyoung in years. Practically since they met.

“Yeah, okay. I could eat.”

They end up at the best Thai restaurant Ten has found in Seoul, though he hasn’t stopped searching. It helps him feel close to home, especially when he gets to speak in his native language with the little old grandmothers working in the kitchen.

Ten doesn’t like to admit this to anyone other than Kun and sometimes Sicheng, but he misses his family and his home.

It wasn’t that scary leaving Thailand at sixteen, but that was only because he thought he’d be gone for less than two years, to finish high school in a new country. Now, he’s been in Seoul for a decade, the years passing quicker as time goes on. At first, it was out of necessity, since he couldn’t afford to go back home. Then it became familiar. Seoul is his home now and he accepts that. He loves it, actually. But family is something that can’t be replaced. He misses everything about that place where he grew up. Especially now.

Doyoung insists he should order, so he picks his favorite dishes off the menu for them to share. The taste nearly brings tears to his eyes, but he tamps down the urge. It’s been a long few months.

“Does it taste like you remember?”  
  


“Yes and no,” he says truthfully. “Nothing will ever be the same as my grandmother’s cooking, but this gets close enough. Sometimes, just reading the Thai words on the menu is enough to make me feel less homesick.”

“I can’t imagine what that must have been like for you. Taeyong said you’ve been here alone since you were a teenager?”

“Yeah. My father’s business ran into some financial trouble in my last year of high school here. He couldn’t pay for me to come back home. They actually had to sell our house. They bought it back a couple of years later, once the company recovered, but I had nowhere to go back to at the time. So I stayed here.”

“You made the best of a bad situation.”

He twirls his fork through the noodles on his plate and thinks through that statement.

  
“I wouldn’t say it was a bad situation. There’s a lot worse places to be stuck than Seoul.”

“But you were disconnected from what mattered to you, from your family. I’m sure you would’ve gone back if you could have.”

“Maybe. But I wouldn’t have met most of my closest friends. Or had the opportunities I did.”

“Of course. Still, I’m in awe of your ability to persevere. It’s not as easy to pack up your life and move away like you make it seem. You’re very brave.”

“Never thought I’d hear you say something like that in my direction.”

“Well, it’s the truth. I don’t know that I could ever do something like that. Walk away from the people I love.”

“Even now? You said your relationship with your parents has changed.”

“It has, but that doesn’t mean I don’t still miss them. Loving someone doesn’t mean that you never disagree or argue. Sometimes, you disagree so much that it seems like you’re on two completely different ends of the earth. But the relationship is still worth keeping.”

“What is it you disagree about so strongly?”

“I’d rather not say.” Ten begins to apologize for overstepping but Doyoung raises a hand. “It’s fine. It’s just stuff I’m still working through.”

He turns the conversation back toward safer topics. They talk as they eat, until the mountain of food between them disappears and dessert arrives. He almost giggles when Doyoung’s eyes light up at the mango sticky rice. He lets Doyoung eat all the fruit, content to chew on bits of the rice.

“I’ve got it.” He pushes Doyoung’s card back toward him when the bill comes.

“I don’t think you should be paying. It’ll be my treat,” Doyoung insists.

“Trust me, if what I saw on the live counter was correct, I’ll be paying your loan back in full by the end of the month. I can afford one meal. I’ve been good about budgeting.”

“I told you, there’s no pressure to pay me back. I’m not charging you interest or anything.”

In a rare moment of outright honesty, he blurts, “I hate being indebted to people. With money or other things. I’m supposed to be self-sufficient.”

Doyoung eyes him strangely, and Ten wishes not for the first time that he could read Doyoung’s mind. After a second, the other raises his hands in the air like a surrender.

“I get it. I can relate. It’s terrible to owe someone.”  
  


“I can’t imagine you ever needing to borrow anything from anyone. You’re so…” he trails off, thinking.

“’So’ what?”

“So…adult. I can’t think of a time when you didn’t have your shit together. Ever since I’ve know you you’ve been put together. It’s like you were mentally lightyears ahead of the rest of us.”

“Then maybe you don’t know me as well as you think you do.” It’s said with an edge that makes Ten think they shouldn’t go down this road. He’s clearly poked at a sore spot. But he’s never had good impulse control. He always has to have the last word. Especially with people like Doyoung who can get under his skin so easily.

“Chill. That wasn’t an insult,” he retorts. “I’m not giving you backhanded compliments just to fuck with you.”

Contrary to what he expects, Doyoung deflates. “You’re right. I’m sorry. It wasn’t an insult. I’m just…tired of people assuming I’m not human.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that people see me as my professional successes and not as a person with emotions and hang-up just like them.”

Ten places his card on the check tray and gives Doyoung a small smile.

“Well, if it helps at all, I’ve never cared about your professional successes. Or anything else about you. You were always just Doyoung to me and none of that made me any more or less willing to be around you.”

“You know, I would’ve found that insulting a year ago, but now I’m glad to just be Doyoung. I wish I was just Doyoung to everyone I’ve ever met.”

He ponders that statement on the way back to his apartment. Doyoung had offered to walk him to the subway station, but he thinks that’s enough camaraderie between them for one night. They could both use some time alone with their thoughts, in his opinion.

He reads the comments people left on their stream as he’s laying in bed and contemplates responding to the nicest ones. There really are a lot of comments, shockingly.

Mostly, it’s people saying how hot they both are. Those are funny. Ten never imagined he’d be in a position where he’d be wading through strangers’ opinions on him and his good looks, but he keeps a good sense of humor about it. There are few people whose opinions truly matter to him and none of them are in the chat.

Other viewers comment on the relative chasteness of Ten’s channel and their appreciation for it.

_they’re just kissing and enjoying each other, but it looks so tender and real_

_maybe its the fact that ive been single for a year now but i want what they have_ __

_I like that they’re so innocent together. Just kissing but its more than enough_

When he sorts by the most liked comments, the amusement turns to something akin to annoyance, just barely pushing his buttons. People refer to them as boyfriends, or a couple. Someone even calls them “relationship goals”. He feels heat prickling at his back, a side effect of his body’s stress response. It shouldn’t tick him off this much for people to call Doyoung his boyfriend, but it does for some reason.

Maybe because if Doyoung were here reading these words alongside him he’d probably try and clear things up for their viewers. Or maybe because it shouldn’t be this deep. It’s just two attractive men kissing with a fake romantic storyline. There doesn’t have to be anything more to it. And yet, people are speaking as if they see something he doesn’t.

In the end, he doesn’t reply to any of the comments. The words escape him.

*

A few weeks later, he finally gets the much-needed Saturday brunch of his dreams. All of his circle shows up, with Jungwoo and Renjun tagging along as well. They’re at a new place, still boozy like their regular spot, but this one has tacos on the menu and outdoor seating. Plus it’s closer to his new place. He’s in love.

Despite Ten’s grumblings about being the only bachelor in his social circle (not true now, since Jungwoo’s around), his friends’ happiness makes him happy. So happy, in fact, that he doesn’t even mind when Renjun and Yukhei get all sappy after a couple of mimosas.

It’s been so long since Ten has had the chance to connect with everyone like this. They’re all so busy living full lives, and it makes him happy that they’re all chasing their dreams and settling down. But somewhere in the back of his mind, it also fills him with dread. They’re not in college anymore (except for Renjun), and everyone is growing up and moving forward.

Ten feels stuck. Like he can’t move forward without being held in place by some invisible force. Like he’s always going to be trying to play catch-up, figuring shit out years after everyone else already has.

He doesn’t say any of this out loud, lest it inspires pity from his friends. Pity is useless to him, only serving to make him feel worse. Instead he immerses himself in the company, ignoring the darker parts of his mind for the moment. Kun invites him antique shopping and Taeyong passes along a few names of choreographers looking for assistants. It’s as close to how things used to be as he’ll get from now on, he guesses.

Truthfully, he knows it’s selfish to think this way. Everyone is so much better off these days. Except for him.

“Tennie?” Taeyong pats him on the arm. “Sichengie’s been calling you.”  
  
“What? Oh, sorry. I’m just a little tired.”  
  


“I was going to ask if you want to go out with us tonight. One of Jae’s friends is DJing at the Crep and we’re all going to meet up for dinner and then head out to the club.”

  
Ten huffs. “I really don’t want to be anyone’s ninth wheel.”  
  


“Don’t worry! I’ll be there too! And some of Renjun’s friends as well!” Jungwoo assures him.

“C’mon Ten,” Kun urges. “It’s been a long time since we’ve all gotten together for a night out.”

When Kun is the one urging _him_ for a night out, Ten is truly in the twilight zone.

“Fine. I’m in. You think I can find a date in…” he checks his watch, “five hours?”

“Why don’t you ask Doyoung to come with you?” Sicheng suggests.

Ten barks out a laugh. “That’s a good one, Sicheng. There’s no way Doyoung will go anywhere other than my couch with me, much less to a club.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Taeyong says cryptically. “Besides, Johnny and Jaehyun have been trying to convince him to come out. If you manage it, I’m sure they’d be thankful enough to buy your drinks.”  
  


He thinks it over. “Is that a promise? Are you willing to pinky swear on behalf of your boyfriends?”

Sicheng shakes his head but follows Taeyong’s lead and holds out his pinky. Ten immediately joins pinkies with each of them, sealing the deal of the exchange. He’s going to drink _so much_ tonight, date or no date.

“Pleasure doing business with you, boys. Tonight’s gonna be fun,” he smiles slyly, already texting Doyoung to come over at 7pm.

*

True to his word—or text, technically—Doyoung shows up exactly at 7pm.

“What was so important that you needed me to come over on a Saturday night? What if I had plans?”  
  


“Well, do you? Because you can go if you need to,” Ten challenges.

Doyoung grumbles something under his breath.  
  
“What was that Mr. Kim? Please share with the class,” Ten gestures to Louis and Leon, lazing about on their cat tower.

“I don’t have any plans.”  
  


“Good! We’re going clubbing.”  
  
“What? You’re fucking with me.” Doyoung’s arms cross over his chest, less as an intimidation tactic than a form of self-preservation.

“I’m not. Did you bring your leather jacket like I asked?”

“Yes, how did you even know I owned one?”

“I didn’t, I just hoped. Come with me.”

“I already told Jaehyun no when he asked me to come out tonight.”

“Tough luck. You’re already here.”

“Can you at least tell me where we’re going? I know next to nothing about the plans for tonight. Since I wasn’t planning to join,” he says pointedly. Ten ignores him.

“The Crep.”

“The _what?”_

Ten sighs, “You really didn’t do much in school besides study, did you? The Crep is what everyone calls The Crepuscule. It’s in Gangnam. Upscale, but nothing too bougie. It was mine and Taeyong’s premier spot for mischief in college. They’ve got good music, good booze, and all the best-looking men.”

“None of that matters to me.”

“It doesn’t have to. The great part about going out is that you can just focus on having fun.”

“Loud music, lots of people, tight spaces, drunk shenanigans. None of that sounds like fun to me.”

“That’s because you’ve never gone out with _me_. I’m going to make you live life on the edge tonight.”

“That’s exactly what I’m afraid of.”

He ends up having Doyoung try on no less than five of his looser-fitting shirts, settling for a semi-sheer black shirt despite the other’s complaints. It hugs the lines of his body so well. If Ten didn’t love this shirt so much, he would offer it to Doyoung to keep.

“Stoooooop,” Doyoung whines as Ten once again unbuttons the top three buttons on the shirt that he buttoned up self-consciously.

“No, you stop, Kim Doyoung. I’m trying to make you look as sexy as possible. Trust my process.”

“I don’t need to be sexy. I’m not looking for a hookup.”

“That doesn’t matter. You’re my date tonight, I can’t let you show up looking anything less than fuckable.”

“I’m your date? I don’t remember being asked?” Doyoung smirks. Of course he can’t just gloss over the parts Ten doesn’t want to discuss.

“Don’t,” Ten sighs.

“I might not know much, but I do know you have to ask people out for dates, Ten.”

“Fine,” he grits his teeth. “Doyoung, will you spare me the embarrassment of 9th wheeling my best friends and be my date tonight?”

Doyoung smiles condescendingly, “I guess I can help you out. Since I’m such a nice guy and all.”

He just barely manages to avoid the pair of shoes Ten angrily throws at his head. “Put those on, won’t you, dear? I have to finish getting ready.”

*

Stepping into the club is like stepping out of a time machine. Were it not for the various people in current their group that Ten never partied with in college, he would think he’d traveled back to that time. The club is exactly the same, down to the neon lights that run along the underside of the bar’s counter.

Yuta and Kun offer to get the first round of shots, so Ten heads over to the table that Yukhei has secured with Doyoung in tow.

For some reason, he feels the need to make sure that Doyoung enjoys himself. It’s his fault he’s here, after all. He engages the other in a conversation to distract him from the chaos and noise around them, and Renjun and Sicheng soon join in. Yuta and Kun soon return with a tray of tequila shots, leaning in close to Doyoung to explain the salt and lemon ritual part of taking tequila shots, who apparently hates alcohol in the form of shots.

Of course, the couples decide to be gross about it. Taeyong and Johnny take turns with theirs, licking salt off each other’s collarbones and plucking limes from each other’s lips. Ten foresees a bout of body shots in their near future and can’t help but shudder. Taeyong always gets so horny when he drinks tequila. Jaehyun and Sicheng are more modest about it, simply licking the salt off each other’s wrists. Yuta and Kun just knock back their drinks with minimal fuss. Ten appreciates them.

He watches the column of Doyoung’s neck as he knocks back the shot, giggling when the other grimaces.

“Burns, huh?”

“That’s disgusting. Why would you choose to drink that?” He bites at the lime, some of the juice falling down to his uncovered chest.

“Well, what do you drink?”

“I prefer wine or beer, to be honest. Sometimes sake.”

“Of course you do,” Ten rolls his eyes. “You’re no fun.”

He notices Doyoung’s hair is beginning to stick to his forehead. “You might want to take off your jacket. A few more rounds of this and you’ll be sweating through your shirt.”

“Oh god, it’s already see-through,” he complains, but follows Ten’s advice. He looks so good like this, in Ten’s opinion. Like he’s just a carefree guy out with his friends for a good time. His fingers come up to the last unbuttoned button, but Ten catches him.

“Nope! You don’t get to hide tonight. You look good, rock it.”

After two more rounds of shots, everyone starts getting up to hit the dancefloor. Doyoung immediately protests when Ten pulls him out of their booth, but he’s not taking no for an answer.

“If you think I brought you all the way to the club just so you could sit there, you’re so wrong. Come on!”

“I don’t dance!” Doyoung yells to be heard over the crowd. Ten doesn’t deign to respond.

He makes sure they stick near the others. The music is fun and catchy so far, Jaehyun’s friend not set to play for another thirty minutes, so they all dance in a group. Ten tugs on Doyoung’s arms to get him to move, relieved when Johnny and Jungwoo join him in his endeavors. It’s like they’re pulling teeth at first, but the alcohol must get to Doyoung eventually, because he starts to loosen up and stops second-guessing himself.

Ten loves this. Dancing used to be his escape from the world. The one thing he had that made everything else fall to the wayside. Here, in a circle surrounded by friends old and new, he comes alive again and remembers just why he wanted to be a dancer, before all the bullshit got in the way. He pulls Taeyong closer, smiling at his best friend. It’s been so long since they’ve done this, but even now, they’re just as crazily in sync with each other as they used to be.

It goes on forever, the music pounding in his brain and moving through his bloodstream. Eventually, everyone partners up and Ten, Doyoung, Jungwoo, and Renjun’s friend Chenle are left to their own devices. Ten is about to suggest another round of drinks when a pair of hands cover his eyes.

“Guess who!” shouts a very annoying voice that Ten recognizes immediately.

“Yangyang?” He turns around. So it is.

Yangyang, Xiaojun, and Taeil are here, Kunhang not far behind them with his vape pen in hand.

“What are you guys doing here?”

“Renjun and Yukhei invited us!” Xiaojun smiles.

“Us too!” Someone says from behind Doyoung, scaring the crap out of him. Ten stifles a laugh.

“Us” is Donghyuck, along with two people that Ten recognizes very well from their streaming channel. Donghyuck cleans up well, looking ready to slay in tight pants and winged eyeliner. Maybe Ten will take him under his wing after all.

“Ten hyung, you know Jeno and Jaemin, right? They’re the streamers!” Ten nods and greets everyone, introducing them to his own group. He feels a bit tired from the combined energy of Yangyang and Donghyuck, so he tugs at Doyoung’s sleeve.

  
“Wanna get another drink?”

Doyoung nods emphatically, taking him by the hand and leading him out of the center of the dance floor.  
  
“Get me anything, yeah? You can put it on Johnny or Jaehyun’s tab, they owe me. I’m just going to the restroom to freshen up.” Doyoung nods and Ten takes off, expertly maneuvering through the crowd.

There’s no line to the men’s room, so he gets in and out relatively quickly. However, he gets held up on his way to the dancefloor. A very sexy, broad-shouldered hunk of a man stops him with a hand on his wrist, forcing Ten to turn and raise an eyebrow.

“Can I help you?”  
  


“I couldn’t help but notice you dancing with your friends. You’re amazing. Wanted to see if you’d like to join me for a drink and maybe a dance or two?” the man smirks, his already gorgeous face becoming even more handsome.

It’s so reminiscent of college and all the fucking around that Ten used to do that he almost considers it for a second. This man is gorgeous after all. And not a total dickhead. Maybe what Ten needs is just a good fuck to get back to his glory days, he reasons to himself. Maybe that will take the edge off of everything that’s been happening. Plus, it would probably be fun. Ten would bet his entire shoe collection that this guy knows how to please his one-night stands.

Then he remembers Doyoung. He turns toward the bar and sees him waiting there, two drinks on the counter by him. He’s staring directly at Ten and this guy.

“Sorry, I’m kind of here with someone.”

“Oh yeah, that intense-looking dude, right? Seems a bit much. Well, at least let me get your number, yeah? I’d love to take you out sometime.”

It’s a total line. The only place he wants to take Ten is probably somewhere with a horizontal surface they can fuck on, but he doesn’t say anything. Instead he puts his phone number in this handsome stranger’s newest model iPhone and heads back toward Doyoung.

“I’m guessing he wasn’t asking for your number for a dance workshop?” are the first words out of Doyoung’s mouth.

“Not quite,” he answers, not wanting to talk about his probable future hookup to Doyoung of all people. “What did you get us?”

Doyoung slides his drink toward him. “Guess.”

Ten takes a look at the martini glass, which holds a rich brown drink with foam on top and a couple of coffee beans for garnish.

“Definitely something coffee flavored,” he surmises.

“Correct. It’s an espresso martini for you and I got myself an old fashioned.”

Ten snickers. “The jokes write themselves, don’t they?” He smiles, sipping slowly at his drink. It’s delicious, surprisingly.

“Ha ha ha, you got me,” Doyoung deadpans. “How do you like that?”  
  


“It’s great, thanks! I’ve never had this before.”  
  
“I wasn’t sure what you like, but you do really love coffee from what I’ve seen.”

“I usually stick to shots or sweet drinks, though nothing with chunks of fruit in it. This is great, though. Maybe a bit too sophisticated for this place.”  
  


“The bartender looked so happy that I didn’t order a Mai Tai. I’m guessing they make the same couple of drinks on rotation.”

“Well, this is a place frequented by college kids. I doubt anyone here is trying to drink the good stuff. They’re all just looking to get plastered and have a good time.”  
  


“Are you?”

“Am I what?”

“Looking to get plastered and have a good time.”

Before he can answer, Mark comes bounding up, having clearly just arrived.

“Hey guys! It’s great to see you! Johnny said to let you know that we’re all going up to the VIP lounge. Jaehyun’s friend’s set is starting soon.”

Ten nods, downing the rest of his drink and waiting for Doyoung to do the same. They follow Mark toward a staircase off to the side, where Doyoung and the rest of their now very large group are waiting.

“Everybody here?” Johnny asks. Everyone nods and Jaehyun speaks with the bouncer, who unclips the rope to let them all through. Ten leads Doyoung upstairs by the hand, pointedly ignoring the bouncer’s wink and lip-licking in his direction.

The VIP lounge is thankfully far less crowded, with a few of the DJ’s other friends. The bar up here is no less stocked, though, so Ten makes his way over.

“Order us another drink,” he suggests when Doyoung follows him over. “Something different from earlier.”

They share a French 75 and a Paloma. The latter was originally for Ten, but he tells Doyoung he prefers the champagne-based drink more and the other happily exchanges it.

By the time Jaehyun’s friend starts his set, Ten has a very nice buzz going. He doesn’t even mind when he gets pulled onto the dancefloor by the Yangyang and Donghyuck, laughing as the two try their hardest to outdo one another with their silly dancing. At one point, he feels someone’s arms wrap around him, turning to find none other than a very sloshed Kun.

Together, they begin their age old club gimmick, the one Taeyong affectionately calls the “make-the-guy-you-want-jealous-by-acting-slutty-with-a-friend move.” They begin innocently enough, giggling drunkenly as they try to grind up on each other sexily. He can practically feel Yuta’s glare from across the dance floor.

Eventually, they end up front to back, Ten grinding his ass back, happy that the DJ is playing something more rhythmic and sensual than EDM noise. Kun’s breath tickles his ear as he says, “Oh my god, look at him.”

Ten cackles at the frown on Yuta’s face. He’s definitely the jealous type. “I know! Yuta’s going to punish you tonight. Make sure your ass is ready to be spanked!” he responds, getting lost in the music all over again. It was such a good idea to come here.

“No, not Yuta! Look at Doyoung!”

He does. Doyoung is still at the bar, arms crossed as he leans back against the counter. His eyes never leave Ten’s. He doesn’t look mad to be left alone, but something like lead still stirs in Ten’s gut. Drunkenly, he thinks shouldn’t be doing this right now. Doyoung is his date after all. What if he gets sad that Ten’s left him all by himself?

“I’m gon-gonna go with Doyoung,” he hiccups, already stumbling away from Kun.

Doyoung meets him halfway. “I think that’s enough drinking, yeah?”  
  


He nods sloppily, “Yes! Let’s work it off by dancing!”

Doyoung begins to protest, but Ten pays him no mind. He grasps at Doyoung’s arms, pulling the other’s arms around his waist.

“What are you doing, Ten?”

‘I’m dancing! With you! So start dancing,” he instructs.

Doyoung’s body goes stiff as a board when Ten turns in his arms and begins grinding back against him, but his alcohol-addled mind never once stops to think too deeply about it, simply tugging on Doyoung’s arms to get him to move. Ten can get men to do anything, this shouldn’t be too hard. It doesn't seem to be working this time, however, so he tries some light encouragement.

“It’s just dancing, Doyoung. C’mon, it’s no big deal!” he insists.

“I don’t know how to do this!” Doyoung insists. “And I don’t think I want to learn!”

Ten turns to face him once more, pouting exaggeratedly.

“There’s no need to know. Just follow my lead, keep your hands on my body, and forget everything that’s keeping you from enjoying this, okay?” He pulls the older man closer by the loops on his jeans and smirks. “I can be a good enough dancer for the both of us.”

It’s true, as they soon find out. With a little encouragement, even Doyoung can follow along with Ten’s rhythm. He’s still clearly uncomfortable, but he copies Ten’s movements and accepts it all. Maybe he’s just decided it’s easier not to fight a drunken dancer on this. Who knows? But Ten enjoys it either way, looping his arms around Doyoung’s shoulders and singing softly along to a familiar song that the DJ has remixed.  
  


More people have come upstairs, which makes the small dancefloor even smaller, pushing them closer together. Doyoung’s shirt is definitely more see-through than it was earlier, sweat beading at his temples. Ten finds that it’s easier to face Doyoung’s penetrating stare with some liquid courage in him. It’s still intense, but not unpleasant. At the very least, Doyoung doesn’t complain when Ten pulls him closer or turns back around to continue his earlier grinding.

They dance for longer than they realize, the amount of people around them growing and shrinking as the songs change. It’s a shout that comes from the direction of the bar which stops their movements halfway through a particularly sensual song. Ten’s reflexes are impaired by the alcohol, so he doesn’t turn quickly enough to see what caused the shouting. Instead, he sees Mark standing there with bloody knuckles, some guy lying on the ground, and Donghyuck crying into Renjun’s arms. Security begins to escort Mark out, but Yukhei intervenes.

Doyoung reacts first, pulling Ten out of the crowd and in the direction of Taeyong, who is busy gathering everyone’s things from the booth they left them in. It’s time for all of them to go, apparently.

“What’s going on?” Doyoung asks worriedly, glancing over at Mark who seems to be watching Donghyuck be led away by his friends.

“Some guy got a little too handsy with Donghyuck and Mark got upset.”

“Why?” Ten asks, grabbing Doyoung’s jacket out of the pile in Taeyong’s arms and handing it to him.

“Because Mark is Donghyuck’s ex, apparently. Not that anyone knew. Even Johnny didn’t know.”

“Damn.”

“You can say that again.” Taeyong sighs, “Listen, I’m going to round up the drunker members of our party and figure out rides. Kun and Yuta already left and took Yangyang and some others with them. Do you two need a ride home?”

“No,” Doyoung says immediately. “We took the subway but I’ll catch a cab. I can make sure Ten gets home safe. Are Jaehyun and Sicheng still here? I can get them home as well if they’ve had too much, they’re on the way.”

“They’re here. Jaehyun’s mostly sober. Take them and Jungwoo with you, yeah? Taeil, Johnny, and I will make sure everyone else gets home safe. Thanks guys!”

Ten spots Sicheng and Jungwoo over in a darkened corner and tugs them along to the bar where Jaehyun—who looks extremely sober despite pounding drinks all night—is waiting. He makes everyone drink a full glass of water courtesy of the bartender, even Doyoung, and then leads the way out of the club.

Ten waves bye to their friends before descending the stairs, mentally thanking Doyoung for the tight grip he has on the back of his shirt which keeps him from stumbling down the stairs once or twice.

The air outside the club is colder than it has any right to be, in Ten’s opinion, despite it being the middle of winter. He declines Doyoung’s offer of his jacket, though, because the other’s shirt is much thinner than Ten’s and because the alcohol is still doing it’s job of keeping him warm.

He holds onto Sicheng’s arm and entwines his hand with Jungwoo’s. The three of them walk ahead of Jaehyun and Doyoung, talking about everything and nothing in that typical way that drunks do. It’s a shout from Jaehyun that catches their attention when they wander off too far, turning back around to follow their more sober companions to the taxi rank.

They fall into a van taxi, curling up into the backseat as Doyoung and Jaehyun sit in the middle and direct the driver. They arrive at Jaehyun and Sicheng’s apartment first and Jaehyun tries to hand Doyoung a wad of bills, which he adamantly refuses to take. Goodbyes and drunken hugs are exchanged quickly before Ten gives the driver Jungwoo’s direction, since the younger is now asleep and drooling on his shoulder. They walk a half-asleep Jungwoo all the way up to his apartment when they arrive at his building, since the lobby is deserted. It’s nice, in a way, doing all this with Doyoung

Doyoung suggests calling another cab once they get downstairs, but Ten declines.

“I’m fine with walking if you are? My place is ten minutes away.”

Doyoung nods and they fall into a comfortable silence, Ten reaching out to catch himself against Doyoung a couple of times. It’s been so long since he’s had this much to drink. Doyoung doesn’t say anything, simply steadies him and keeps walking.

They pass a couple of restaurants that stay open past midnight, Ten greeting the ahjummas whom he’s come to depend on for sustenance when they wave at him. They pass a small park and a strip of bars with loud patrons hanging around outside. Doyoung’s arm comes up around Ten’s shoulder when the younger gets jostled by a fellow drunk walking by. He doesn’t remove it. Ten winds his own around Doyoung’s waist.

They walk like this all the way to Ten’s building, sharing body heat and few words. Doyoung pulls his phone out to call a cab as they get to the front entrance.

“I’ll wait out here for you cab to arrive,” Ten says, trying and failing to stifle a yawn. He still has to take off his makeup and probably shower before bed.

“It’s fine, just go upstairs.”

“No. I don’t care if this is a safe neighborhood. If you get murdered in a random act of violence I’ll never hear the end of it from Taeyong.”

Doyoung sighs but doesn’t protest further. The app pings to let him know that his driver is three minutes away. He takes his jacket off in the meantime, probably hot from all the walking. He still looks great in it, though distinctly more ruffled than he was when they left to the club. Ten considers letting the time pass in silence, but his curious mind is dying to know if Doyoung enjoyed himself.

“Did you have fun tonight?”

Doyoung looks up from his phone, seemingly startled to be addressed, “I did, surprisingly. Thank you. I know I was being difficult earlier, but I enjoyed doing this.”

“See? Sometimes it’s fun to live on the edge.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” Doyoung’s gaze rests on him for a while, but something in the pit of Ten’s stomach stops him from returning it, eyes trained on his shoes.

“Get home safe,” he says out of courtesy. _It would be strange to ask for a text when he's gotten home safe, right?_ he thinks. “If your cab driver is creepy, call me and stay on the line while I call the police, okay?”

Doyoung chuckles softly. He looks sleepy now as well, it’s cute. “I will. Go upstairs and get to bed, Ten. I’ll see you soon.”

_Fuck it._

“Text me when you get home so I know you got there, okay? We drank a lot tonight.”

Doyoung gives him a small smile and nods before turning toward the taxi that has now arrived.  
  


He watches him walk away, still in Ten’s shirt and shoes, jacket tucked under his arm. Once the taxi is out of sight, Ten takes the elevator up to his floor. He stares at the mirrored back wall of the elevator, noting various aspects of his post-club appearance.

His cheeks are still flushed, despite walking in the cold nighttime air for over half an hour. Maybe he drank more than he thought.

(Doyoung texts him, just like he said he would.)

*

Three months into this new routine of meeting once a week to film themselves kissing for a now sizeable group of subscribers, Doyoung flips the script completely.

Ten is enjoying the free time that his new form of employment affords him. He’s still looking for a full-time position at dance studios throughout the city, but the kiss stream has been good to his bank account. With Doyoung’s help—more like pestering, honestly—he’s been able to map out his expenses for the next few months. Even with a few indulgences—namely brunch, always brunch—his emergency fund is looking THICC. (Doyoung did not find that funny when he said it.)

Strangely enough, Doyoung is around more. They don’t hang out exclusively, but it’s becoming more common to see Doyoung at lunch with Taeyong and Johnny or at Jaehyun and Sicheng’s apartment for get-togethers. There’s even been a repeat of their night at the club and sharing drinks at bars whenever someone in their group needs to unwind. Their interactions with each other these days are anything but hostile, which makes everyone more willing to round each other up for quality time. Taeyong is visibly relieved, which is kind of annoying, but only because Ten hates to think that he was depriving his friends of anything during the times he and Doyoung didn’t want to be in the same room together.

Of course, the older is also around once a week for their streams. He claims Ten is lying about him having a mass of fans these days, but half the comments under their streams are about how cute and lovely Doyoung is. Ten fake retches as he reads them aloud to said man, bypassing the ones that comment on how good they look together entirely.

It’s comfortable now, in a way that neither of them anticipated. If you pressed Ten, he might even admit to enjoying the “work.” There’s an ease to the whole thing. Kissing without any expectations. No boyfriend duties, no jealousy, no anger. Plus he’s getting paid for it. It’s truly ideal.

Which is why Ten doesn’t understand how Doyoung shows up at his apartment on a Tuesday night in February, drenched from the rain.

The last time Ten saw him was at his birthday party, which he was shocked to be invited to (and not with a last minute invitation either!).

“You’re joking right? You’ve been making out with Doie for months now, why wouldn’t he invite you?” Taeyong had stated, utterly nonplussed about such a big deal. 

Doyoung doesn’t look happy now like he did on his birthday. In fact, he looks the opposite. He looks like he’s at the end of his rope. Ten gapes at him for a few seconds as the other just stares at him, dripping water all over his welcome mat. He looks like a mess, wet hair in his reddened eyes, shivering in a soaked threadbare-looking hoodie. Doyoung seems to snap out of his trance as Ten pulls him inside, no works exchanged between them since the door opened.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know why I came here,” Doyoung apologizes through his shivering, breaking the silence and also maybe possibly Ten’s heart.

He bypasses the living room completely as he leads Doyoung inside, pulling the other into his bathroom.

“How long have you been out in the rain? Your hands are like ice! Do you need to shower?” his mouth moves a mile a minute.

Ten’s never been good with people who are falling apart because usually, he’s the one doing so. He can’t handle the caretaker role as well as others can. But Doyoung looks like he needs _something_ , so Ten will have to give it to him. Whatever that something is.

“No, I’m fine. I got wet from walking here.” His voice is flat, monotone. The kind of sound that Ten hates to hear because it’s never the sound a happy person makes. Whatever Doyoung is about to say gets muffled by the towel Ten throws over his head to dry his hair.

“What’s going on? You just showed up here. Not that I mind,” he hurries to say, because it seems like Doyoung might need the reassurance. “It was just unexpected is all.”

He looks down at where Doyoung is sitting on the toilet, sopping wet and eyes red. His sorrowful gaze reminds Ten of an innocent animal’s. This wasn’t just a bad day snowballing and taking the happiness with it. Someone or something hurt Doyoung, that much is clear.

“I didn’t know where else to go.”

“Where were you before this?”

“I went to see my parents for dinner. I didn’t want to stay there.”

The truth isn’t as shocking as it should be. Ten figured something along those lines, given what he knows. His first guess was work, his second was family. It being the latter definitely raises more questions than it answers. Mostly about why it’s his place Doyoung chose to come to.

“Not that I’m mad about you being here, but there’s lot of other doorsteps you could’ve stopped on instead of mine. I reckon I’m probably number seventeen on your list of people you want to visit when things aren’t going great.”  
  


Doyoung’s eyes widen. “I can leave—”

“Stop, that’s not what I’m saying. I’m just curious why it was your first instinct to come here and not to Jaehyun’s place or Taeyong’s.”

“…I don’t know if I have an answer,” Doyoung answers truthfully.

Ten nods. Sadness is like that. It washes over everything else. Sometimes it’s powerful enough to to make it so that you just don’t know the things you should know. He gets it.

Once Doyoung’s hair is dry, Ten leads him into the bedroom, refusing to take no for an answer as he makes Doyoung strip out of his wet clothes and borrow some dry ones. The pajama pants Ten loans him are short, but everything else fits fine. Doyoung apologizes for showing up unannounced repeatedly, like a broken record, but Ten tunes out the apologies. He’s been on the receiving end of kindness enough times to know that this is no burden, despite what Doyoung might think.

They end up ordering dinner, since Doyoung admits he didn’t end up eating at his parents’ place and Ten refuses to cook for someone who would absolutely notice and comment on the burnt parts of an omelette. (Though maybe not in his current state. But Doyoung has a good memory. If not now, then certainly in the future.)

Forgoing the small dining table, Ten leads him to the coffee table in his living room and puts on the latest Marvel film for some mindless entertainment. He pours them each a glass of a new bottle of framboise, reasoning that Doyoung could use a drink, fruity and barely alcoholic as it is, right now.

Doyoung eats quietly, never looking up from his plate. Several times, Ten tries to make light conversation, but Doyoung, despite his attentive responses, still looks like he’s thinking of something else. Ten clears out the take-out trash once they’re done and comes back to find Doyoung exactly where he left him. His head is tipped back against the couch cushions, expression pinched like he has a terrible migraine. He’s drained his glass, lips stained red from the drink. Ten bites at his own.

There’s really no reason for him to say what he says next other than the fact that he’s bad at consoling people unless it’s through physical touch. That and Doyoung’s lips look delectable. All of him does, really.

“You wanna make out?”  
  


Doyoung frowns, blinking up at the ceiling for a few seconds before giving Ten an incredulous look. “I don’t think I’m emotionally stable enough to do a stream right now.”

“No, not for the channel. Just in general. Do you want to make out with me right now?”

“Um, that’s not one of my usual coping mechanisms for the kind of emotions I’m feeling right now,” he tries to say gently.

Ten huffs, feeling slightly embarrassed but bravely soldiering on, “You could just say no. Less words, gets the point across just fine. I won’t be offended, it was just a suggestion.”  
  


“No, I—I’m not saying no, I just…don’t get how kissing is supposed to help?”

He looks so genuinely confused that Ten has to laugh. It’s the first non-terrible emotion Doyoung has showed since he got here.

“It’s just a bit of fun. To get your mind off all of this. Your baggage will still be there in the morning, so why not forget about it for one night?”

“Who says I have baggage?”

“Really? You showed up drenched from the rain at my door after a dinner with your parents—where you didn’t even eat said dinner. You already told me you’re doing business with them, and you didn’t sound particularly happy about it, so…there’s baggage, there.”

Doyoung opens his mouth but Ten forges on.

  
“I’m not saying you have to share it with me. We both know I’m the last person you’d consider your confidant. But I’m pretty good at helping people forget things for a night. I could help you, too.”  
  


“Just one night?”  
  
“I don’t usually get a second or third,” he admits.

Doyoung mulls that over and says, “They’re fools if they only want you for one night.”

“It’s whatever,” he shrugs, aiming for nonchalant but being far too tense for it. This particular subject is difficult for Ten. This isn’t the moment to discuss that sort of thing, anyway.

“I think…making out would help.”

“Great!”

He helps Doyoung off the floor and leads him back to his bedroom.

“I should get a new couch, that one’s shit.”

“We’re doing this on your bed?” Doyoung asks, sounding slightly alarmed.

“Sure, unless you’re a germaphobe. I haven’t brought anyone here, though. And I washed my sheets last night!” he assures.

“That’s fine, I guess.”

“We really don’t have to do this, you know? I won’t be mad if you just want to talk. Or you can sleep if you want?”

“Sleep won’t come,” Doyoung says. His voice holds so much conviction in that one statement. “It never does on nights like these.”

“Then let’s get your mind off of everything, shall we?”

He sits astride Doyoung’s legs, letting his weight rest atop the other. Whenever he’s particularly anxious himself, it helps to have something to weigh him down. Doyoung doesn’t protest, so Ten assumes he’s similar.

The first kiss is tentative. His hand rests on Doyoung’s cheek while Doyoung’s hands fist in his shirt. He’s still cold, but at least he’s no longer shivering. Slowly, their lips meet, brushing gently over one another. Over and over, Ten starts up a rhythm, gaining vigor with every press of lips on lips.

It feels different this time, with Doyoung responding on autopilot, body following along with Ten’s movements for the sake of keeping up. Ten doesn’t like that. The whole point of this is to get Doyoung’s mind off his problems, not give him an avenue through which he can pretend to not be thinking while still doing exactly that.

“Hey, look at me.”

Doyoung’s eyes are shining, gaze swimming in something that Ten is pretty sure he’s not qualified to handle. God, he wishes Taeyong or Kun were here. They’re the dads of the group for a reason.

“Stop thinking about whatever happened. Seriously.”  
  
“I can’t,” Doyoung replies, voice hoarse. Something about the sound of his voice makes Ten shiver. “It just keeps replaying in my head over and over.”

“Yes, you can. Just focus on me, okay? Focus on the way I’m kissing you.”

Doyoung nods slightly, eyes clearing a bit.  
  


They pick back up and it’s much better. Doyoung actively engages, following Ten’s lead as the other let’s their tongues mingle for a bit. Ten’s hands come up to his shoulders, massaging a bit as he grips them. Doyoung’s body is still tense, but it’s slowly loosening.

Ten forgets his own advice, focusing not on kissing but on his own thoughts.

He’s a broken record at this point, but he still marvels at the fact that Doyoung is truly good at this. He’s so unlike the Doyoung that Ten thought he knew in college, cold and frigid. He hated skinship, hated being touched in general. He looked down his nose at people, especially Ten, always finding their flaws and commenting upon them.

This Doyoung, who rests his cheek upon Ten’s palm and allows Ten’s arms to envelop him is so different. Briefly, he has the unwanted realization that if Doyoung had been like this in college, he absolutely would have fallen for him.

He presses harder into the kiss, trying to dispel the thought. It does him no good. Nothing good will come from that line of thinking. The past is the past and things worked out the way they did. They’re here now, doing this thing that they’re really only supposed to do for money. Instead, they’re doing it for comfort. But it’s not out of love, and that’s the thing Ten clings to. This is not the result of love, so it’s okay to do this. He’s not attached and Doyoung just needs a bit of comfort. It’s okay to do this.

Doyoung groans as Ten bites at his lip teasingly, pulling away to suck a mark on the younger’s unblemished neck.

“Fuck,” Ten gasps. He loves being marked up.

When their lips meet again, it’s with a fervor they haven’t had between them. He briefly revels in the fact that it’s working. Doyoung is forgetting all about whatever is troubling him. He’s going with the flow, not dwelling on things that he needs to fix or work on. It’s as close to a victory as Ten will get with him, and what a win it is.

He keeps kissing the other, hopeful that they might just tire themselves out with this. Doyoung’s statement that sleep won’t come wasn’t a challenge, but Ten treats it like one. He makes it his mission. Over and over, their lips meet and tongues dance, saliva and caresses being exchanged like gifts. Warmth passed from one to the other, lighting them up from the inside.

Then, he feels it. Doyoung is hard.

Something about that throws Ten off his rhythm.

For better or worse, whether it’s his need for denial or something else, Ten has refused to acknowledge Doyoung in a sexual light. Sure, he has eyes and can see just how good-looking Doyoung is, but there’s never been an outward acknowledgement that they have or could have any sexual attraction toward each other. Then again, physical reactions such as this are not necessarily indicative of attraction. Ten’s managed to get it up for guys much uglier than Doyoung, looks and personality wise.

Something about knowing the other is aroused sparks the same in himself. He moans softly as his skin begins to buzz with the soft electricity that only sexual desire can bring. That dormant need rises to the surface now. It’s been so long since he got fucked or fucked anyone.

“This is so hot,” he gasps. He bears down, and that’s when Doyoung’s eyes snap open and look down.

He feels Doyoung’s panicked gaze more than he sees it, as he keeps his eyes closed to the sparks of pleasure that run down his spine. That telltale rigidity and stiffness takes over Doyoung, turning him into a real-life marble statue, cold skin and all.

If the other thinks he was ever unaware of his dick coming to life, he’s sorely mistaken. Ten felt it. He bears down one more time and yeah, Doyoung’s dick is still solid as a rock. He’s a little proud of himself for making the other lose his composure without even realizing it.

At least this will get his mind off the baggage.

“I’m sorry!” Doyoung squeaks out, looking so close to traumatized that Ten would find it funny if it weren’t for the fear that’s also present in the other’s eyes. It’s probably the fear of ridicule, more so than a specific fear of Ten’s reaction. But just to make sure, he uses his gentlest tone when he speaks next.

He presses a lingering kiss to Doyoung’s cheek and says, “What’s there to be sorry about? I’m not insulted by your dick being hard.” He pulls away slightly, in case Doyoung decides to pull a run on his and throws him off the bed.

“I-I didn’t mean—this is, oh god I didn’t mean for that to happen.”

“It’s fine. Understandable, even. I’m squirming in your lap, kissing the shit out of you. We’re both gay. It’s natural to feel this good. I’m hard, too,” he looks down pointedly. Doyoung misses it; his hands are covering his face.

“Hey, don’t hide from me. You’re the most direct, no-nonsense person I know, so let’s be direct now.”

Doyoung’s cheeks are redder than Ten’s ever seen them, but he meet’s his gaze head on.

“How are you so okay with this?”  
  


“With what? Your dick being hard? We’re men, Doyoung. Sometimes a good breeze gets my dick up.”

“With me. How are you so comfortable with me being in your bed, getting hard from making out? How are you not freaking out?”

“Because sexual attraction and chemistry have nothing to do with our personal lives. They’re outside of that. I’d be just as hard with anyone else I got into my bed. You need to turn off your brain for a bit. I promise it doesn’t have to be so complicated.”

It’s not strictly true. Ten can admit to himself that in this moment, hell in these past few months, nothing and no one have gotten him this hot. It’s Doyoung, plain and simple. Any other person might elicit a reaction, but nothing as much as this moment here.

Doyoung looks slightly less panicked, though no less perturbed. It makes sense that he’d overthink this, but Ten is tired of the other letting his brain make every decision for him. This doesn’t have to be anything more than what it is. Ten firmly wants to believe that.

“It’s really okay, Doyoung. It’s a natural reaction. We’re two good-looking people, we’re making out, our bodies have needs, it’s a recipe for unexpected boners, truly.”

“You’re right, it’s okay. We can stop now if you want. We’re not going to have sex or anything,” is Doyoung’s reply, though it’s less like a statement and more like a question.

“No, we’re not. But I like kissing. It comforts me. I’m down to continue if you are. Or we can just chill here instead. But I’m also very cold so let’s get under the covers.”

  
With that, he rolls off Doyoung’s lap and maneuvers under the covers in a very undignified way, turning on his side to face Doyoung. He makes a motion for the other to copy him and Doyoung gets off the bed and gets under the covers in such an adult way that Ten can’t help but laugh. His dick is officially on its way to Soft Town now, but he absolutely doesn’t mind.

“You couldn’t just wiggle your way under like I did?”

“It seemed silly,” Doyoung admits. “I don’t like looking foolish.”

“I promise you, nothing we do in the privacy of my bedroom will ever be known outside of these four walls. Feel free to be as foolish as you want.”

Doyoung raises a skeptical eyebrow. Ten snorts.

“I mean, yeah, I tell my friends about my sex life, sue me. But you and I are not having sex so we’re good! My lips are sealed.”

He scoots closer to Doyoung, who remains on his back, staring up at the ceiling.

“Hey,” he murmurs, pulling the other’s focus once more. He raises an eyebrow and silently asks a question.

Doyoung must understand what he’s asking, because he jerks his head slightly in a nod to indicate his answer.

Ten picks up where they left off by trailing soft kisses over Doyoung’s jawline. He wants the other to take the lead this time. Ten can’t always be the one in charge, damn it. Doyoung takes the hint and turns his head to initiate.

Their lips meet once again, faint traces of the framboise remaining on their tongues as they explore each other again. The steady rhythm of their lips moving in tandem is soothing. It becomes apparent that Doyoung is growing sleepy, his movements slowing down, until eventually he’s breathing into Ten’s mouth more than he’s kissing. The younger snorts quietly at the sight of his open mouth. If they were still on their pigtail-pulling bullshit, he’d take a photo to tease the other in the morning.

As it is, he presses one last kiss to the corner of Doyoung’s lips and then snuggles up against the older, head pillowed on his chest and leg thrown over both of Doyoung’s. It’s truly been so long since he’s had someone to cuddle in bed. (Taeyong during their sleepovers doesn’t count, he’s all bones.)

He falls asleep so much faster than usual, possibly because of the heat radiating off the body he’s tucked up against. Yet he’s still conscious enough to notice what feels like a soft kiss being placed to the top of his head. Maybe it’s all just a dream.

*

The next morning finds Ten in Doyoung’s embrace, the older spooning him. It’s such a lovely cocoon of warmth and peacefulness that he doesn’t bother to question how they even got into this position. It’s so nice...until it gets interrupted by Doyoung’s phone ringing in the living room. He smacks at Doyoung’s arm around his waist lightly, urging the other to go pick up his phone. It takes a while, but he gets up eventually. Ten waits until he’s alone in his bedroom to sit up and stretch a bit. He feels surprisingly well rested.

Last night was a lot, for both of them, but they managed to get to sleep just fine. Clearly he didn’t fuck anything up too badly if Doyoung is still here. It’s proof, possibly, that Ten can take on the caregiver role if he needs to do so.

He gets up check on Louis and Leon, who surprisingly didn’t insist on sleeping in his bed like they usually do. They’re never this polite to his visitors. He finds them in their daybeds in the living room, looking far more content than Doyoung does on the couch. His head is in his hands, phone still on the coffee table where he left it last night.

“You okay?” Ten asks, more as a formality. He was right, the baggage is still here.

Doyoung nods slightly, head in his hands, before sighing and shaking his head.

“I’m not,” he admits.

“You wanna talk about it?”

Again, he shakes his head, then aborts the movement and nods instead.

Ten waits. Doyoung will speak when he’s ready. It doesn’t take long anyway.

“I lied,” Doyoung confesses.

“What did you lie about?” It doesn’t matter, really. They don’t have the kind of relationship where either of them can rake the other over the coals for lying. Doyoung probably had his reasons.

“When I told you that is was just a minor disagreement with my parents.”

“That day you went to dinner after our stream?”

“Yeah,” Doyoung swallows loudly.

“Go get back in bed,” Ten decides. “I’ll get us some food.”  
  
“I thought you didn’t cook?”  
  


“Anyone can make cereal.”

He busies himself with preparing two bowls and grabs the chic breakfast tray he bought for the days when he feels like being fancy and eating in bed like a rich socialite.

Doyoung is sitting up under the covers, eyes unseeing like they were last night. Ten motions for him to scoot toward the center of the bed and places the tray over his lap before getting on himself. Doyoung crosses his legs and they settle across from each other with the food between them.

“You don’t have to tell me anything, but I’m sure you’ll feel better if you do.”

“You’re probably right, but it’s not easy.”

“It doesn’t have to be easy. It can be hard and still be done. Just take your time. Maybe start with one thing and expand upon that. What did you mean when you said you lied about the disagreement? Did you have a falling out with your parents?”

“I don’t think you can call it a falling out when they refused to acknowledge the argument in the first place,” Doyoung mutters.

Ten swallows the food in his mouth before speaking. “I don’t know what to make of that statement. Elaborate?”  
  


Doyoung takes a bite of his cereal and chews thoughtfully. Then, he speaks.

“My parents are…heavy-handed, let’s put it that way. The way they show their love to my brother and me is by rewarding us for good deeds. It’s always been that way. Remember how I was in college?”

Ten’s eating so he simply nods. Doyoung was a grade-A uptight twat, but that doesn’t need to be mentioned. Everyone knows.

“Yeah, I wasn’t the most easy-going person. My parents had expectations. I needed to be top of my class, always have impeccable grades. I needed to get the best internships and opportunities. I couldn’t waste time with people or things that weren’t moving up in the world like I was.”

“Sounds shitty, to be honest.”

“It was, though I didn’t acknowledge it at the time. My parents spared no expense in helping me to be the best I could, but because they invested so much in my future, they expected returns. When I did well, they rewarded me.”

“Rewarded you how?”  
  
“It wasn’t always monetary or materialistic rewards, if that’s what you’re thinking. It was also family trips, affection, stuff like that.”

“Sounds like your relationship was transactional,” Ten offers.

“That’s one way to put it.”

“What if you did badly?”

“I was too scared to find out, to tell you the truth. My parents love me, I don’t doubt that. But they’ve never been afraid to give me ultimatums and push me to do things. They’ve always maintained that they want me to be happy and have the best life they can give me, but their methods are...uniquely torturous.”  
  
“Having to be a golden child in order to get affection from your parents sounds unhealthy, no offense.”

It says so much about Doyoung that he’s still so kind to his parents, when they seem like the worst, from Ten’s point of view. Who tells their kid to be the best or else? Ten’s family has never been perfect by any definition of the word, but love and affection were never off the table, no matter how badly he fucked up.

“Yeah, you’re right. I guess I just never allowed myself to realize it before.”  
  
“What changed? What made you see that it wasn’t right?”

Doyoung pauses, considering. They eat quietly for a few moments before he speaks again.

  
“Remember how you said my life was perfect at Sicheng’s birthday dinner?”

Ten bites at his lip, remembering the words he spat out months ago. “I shouldn’t have said that. I don’t even know enough about your life to make that kind of judgement.”

“You’re not the first person to assume that my life is perfect. I suppose it can look that way from the outside. Lots of people around me think that I’m the kid with the golden ticket.”

Ten’s face flushes in shame. For the past six months, he’s wanted nothing more than to not be judged for the circumstances he’s found himself in, yet he did the same to Doyoung all those weeks ago. Without knowing his struggles, he made an error in judgement. Sure, Doyoung was unkind then, but Ten shouldn’t have said what he did either.

Doyoung finishes his breakfast before he speaks next, wringing his hands over the breakfast tray and fidgeting.

“I had a breakdown, about eight months ago. At least, that’s what my therapist calls it.”

His hands come up to hold Doyoung’s wrists in a gentle grip. He’s picking at his hangnails and Ten doesn’t want him to hurt himself. He doesn’t interrupt. Doyoung needs to get the words out, that much is clear.

“I woke up one day and just realized I was miserable. Or rather, I knew I was miserable all along but at that moment I just got so tired of pretending I wasn’t. I blew up at work, said some stuff I’m not proud of. They offered me a sabbatical, said they would be willing to overlook this one incident if I took some time off.”

Ten’s eyes widen at the story. Not that he doesn’t believe it. He was there on the day Doyoung made a fellow student cry with his outburst in college, after all. But it’s so strange to hear him talk about hating a life that Ten had assumed he enjoyed. Doyoung’s never given any indication that he hated the path he was on. Everyone they know has always talked about how successful he is.

“They only did it because I was their best employee. My first year at the company I earned almost half a year’s salary in overtime in addition to my regular pay. They would have gotten rid of me in a second if I had been less of an asset to the company.”

It’s sad, Ten thinks, to have as much self-awareness of your utility to others as Doyoung does. To know that others see you not as a person, but as an ‘asset.’ Now Doyoung’s desire to simply be seen as himself makes more sense. That day in the restaurant he truly was sick of being seen as anything but another person.

“So what did you do? I never heard of you going on leave from your job. Unless you didn’t tell anybody?”  
  


He wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case. Doyoung holds things so tightly to his chest, rarely letting anything slip.

“I, uh, quit on the spot.” Ten whistles, truly speechless for the first time. Doyoung sheepishly rubs the back of his neck.

“I’m guessing your parents were mad?”

“My father nearly disinherited me. Said he couldn’t believe I’d give up on my dream just because I had to work a little bit harder than I was used to. They spent weeks trying to get me to rethink my decision, and then months harping on what a bad decision I made.”

“Your business dinners…?”

“Yeah. The ‘business’ dinners. My father is in the business of picking apart my life and my career. Dinner always devolves into an argument about everything I’m doing right. And if my brother’s there, we have a side of “Look at how great Gongmyung is, why can’t you be the same’ for dessert.”

“That’s awful.”

“I’m used to it. My brother apologizes every time. He hates the comparisons as much as I do and I don’t resent him. This life that our parents mapped out, this work, it’s his dream. He likes living this way. But I fucking hate it.”

Ten moves to place the empty tray on the floor and crawls back under the covers, sitting next to Doyoung when the other moves over to give him room.

“Was it ever your dream?” Ten asks.

“No,” Doyoung admits. “I can’t think of any dream worse than becoming a company employee and being overworked for the sake of making money.”

“Then why did you work so hard in college?”

“I just wanted to make my parent’s proud.”  
  


They sit in silence for a few seconds. Doyoung’s truth is something even Ten can’t comprehend.

Eventually he speaks again. “So what was it?”  
  


“Hmm?”

“What was your dream? If being a top dog in the finance world wasn’t it, what was?”

“I…” Doyoung stares down at his hands, like he’s just now seeing them for the first time. Then, like he’s steeling himself, he takes a deep breath and speaks. “I wanted to be a singer.”  
  
“No fucking way,” Ten blurts incredulously, immediately covering his mouth. Doyoung laughs at the exclamation, the first real smile of the day on his face, teeth and crinkly eyes on display. His scrunched nose is cute, so Ten boops it. Of course, this makes the other sober up quite quickly, swatting at his hand lightly.

“I did. Singing was my passion. There were so many times in college where I thought about being reckless and just switching my major without telling anyone. But I guess I was too much of a coward,” he muses self-deprecatingly.

“No, you weren’t,” Ten asserts. “You were a kid who grew up with the idea that love means following the path laid out for you without one toe out of line. Doyoung, you were given love with strings attached. Of course you were scared to go against your parents’ wishes. You could’ve lost everything.”

“Maybe it would have been worth it. At least I would still have my dream.”  
  


Ten snorts, “You’re not eighty years old, you know. You’re still allowed to have that dream and you can still make it happen.”

“You know, I...I had this crazy idea in the months after I quit my job. I had to find another job to get my parents off my back, so I went right back, to a job that was less prestigious, less demanding, more manageable, but still more of the same soul-crushing bullshit. My parents didn’t care that I was slowly getting better even if I wasn’t happy. They just saw a failure. And one day I—I had this random thought. Over time, that single thought morphed into an idea that I couldn’t shake. I even began to daydream about it at work.”

“What was the idea?”

“The idea was that I was going to move to a remote island, far away from my parents and the work I was doing. A place where there was very little to do. Just a place where I could sit and be by myself for a while and pass the time by singing. I would build myself a hut and hunt all my own food. Just be self-sufficient without having to worry about making others happy.”  
  


“That sounds nice,” Ten muses, “In theory. But what about when the loneliness started to set in?”  
  


Doyoung sighs, “Don’t…don’t pity me for saying this, all right? But I’ve been lonely my whole life. Physical separation from everyone I know wouldn’t really make much of a difference to me.”

Ten feels his heart crumble at those words.

“I don’t pity you,” Ten says. It’s not a lie. Doyoung is too strong a person to evoke Ten’s pity. “I’m angry on your behalf. Following your dreams is something we should all have a right to do. You didn’t deserve to be manipulated into others’ plans for your life. It’s yours, not theirs.”

“Maybe not, but I’ve never had much of a backbone to fight for myself.”

“Well, there’s no time like the present to start growing one.”

Doyoung turns to face Ten, an unreadable expression upon his face.

“You know, I envied you a lot in college.”

“You’re joking.”

“No, I really did. It’s petty, I admit.”

“But, you hated me!” he reasons, mind still reeling from the notion that Doyoung could ever envy anything about his life. “What did you even have to be jealous about?”

“I didn’t hate you, I just didn’t like you or care for you. The reason that I was jealous was stupid.”

“I’m sure it was, but I still want to know. No one’s ever been jealous of me,” Ten marvels. He’s learning so much today.

Doyoung’s lips turn down comically. “That has to be a lie.”

“It isn’t. I mean, as far as I can tell.”

“How could anyone not be jealous of you?” Doyoung asks incredulously. “You’re a dance prodigy. Easily the best dancer to come out of our school in decades. People used to line up to buy tickets for every showcase you were in. And you always had friends. And men,” he swallows. “All the men were always after you. I don’t think I ever saw you walk anywhere alone in the four years we were at school together. People were lining up to get your attention.”

Ten’s heart flutters strangely. Doyoung was paying attention. Even when he wanted nothing to do with Ten, he paid attention to him.

“Is that why you were jealous? Because I got attention? Because I assure you, it didn’t do anything for me in the long run. Look at me now, can’t find employment in my field, kissing on camera for money, the attention did fuck all in the end.”

“No—stop. Stop degrading yourself. Everyone falls on hard times, Ten. It’s not just a _you_ thing,” Doyoung insists. “It wasn’t the attention and adoration you received, it was you. You were always so… _free_. You always said the first thing on your mind and did everything you wanted. You didn’t care who judged you or didn’t like you. You were always dancing to the beat of your own drummer. I wanted to be like that.”  
  


“You make it sound like I was purposely hedonistic. Most of the time I just didn’t know what the fuck I was doing. And sometimes I ended up hurt or hurting people.”

Neither of them mentions the short fling with Taeyong their freshman year, which significantly shifted Ten’s relationship with both Taeyong and Johnny. Only time and dedication to their friendship made things better.

“It wasn’t hedonism. It was freedom. You were free. To be who you wanted to be. Love who you wanted to love.”

That gives Ten pause. That sounds like…

“Your parents don’t know you’re gay?”

“No, they do. I told them last night.”  
  
“Wait, what? Hold the fuck up, you’re telling me you came out to your parents just last night? Is that why you came here. Holy shit, did they do something to you? Let me see.”

He turns Doyoung’s face toward him, carefully studying his handsome features. He doesn’t look banged up, but some injuries are dealt deeper than skin can show. He already hates Doyoung’s parents, he has no problem calling the cops to file an assault charge.

“I’m fine, really. My parents wouldn’t physically harm be for being gay. My father, he said some things. None of them particularly nice things. But on the whole, it went a lot like I imagined it would.”  
  
“Oh no, Doyoung,” Ten frets. “What did they say?”

“My father told me that if I was trying to win an award for fucking up my entire life multiple times in a row, I was succeeding. My mother just started crying and asking where they went wrong. My father told me to figure my shit out, or else.”  
  


“They’re wrong for that. There’s nothing wrong with you. You know that, right?” He has to make sure. Doyoung needs to know.

“Yeah, but that doesn’t make it hurt any less.”

“I’m sorry for what I said back then. I never wanted to be judged by the people I love, and here you are, getting just that from the people you care about most.”

“You didn’t know. I don’t hold it against you. If I did, there’s no way I’d be here right now.”

“Speaking of that, this thing we’re doing, why would you risk your parents wrath for me? They’ll probably go through with disinheriting you if they find out you’re kissing me for money.”

“I don’t care anymore. I kept waiting for a sign that things would change. All these years I waited for them to lighten up, but they never have. No matter what I do or say, they’ll always be waiting for me to slide back into my planned position and walk the path they’ve chosen for me. I’ve learned now that no amount of loving them will get them to change. I have to stop wasting my time. I can’t live my life like that anymore.”

“Of course, you’re your own person. You should live by your own rules.”

“I’m not, yet. I want to be my own person. I want to be something more than just my parent’s son. Or an asset. I want to be Kim Doyoung. And the first step is to do things that I want to do without worrying what they think. I wanted to help you, consequences be damned.”  
  


“Kim Doyoung, a kiss streamer. What a way to get back at your parents. Next, you’ll be a singer. That will really show them.”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves there. I doubt I could pull that off.”

“Not yet. You have to rekindle and nurture that first dream. I’ll help you.”

“How?”

“I don’t know, but we can figure it out together. I’m sure you know by now that you’re not alone. You have so many friends willing to help you out. We don’t have to tell them anything, but I’ll make sure they get on board.”

“You’d do that for me?”

“You’re joking, right? Doyoung, you’re fifty percent of the reason I’m not living in an alleyway with my cats. I’ll do what I can. But…” he cautions.

“What? Are you also giving me an ultimatum?”

“No. You don’t need any more of those in this lifetime. It’s more like a warning or a caution. I’ll support your original dream, but I can’t support that new dream. You shouldn’t be alone, whether you’re here or on some deserted island. No one should be alone.”

Doyoung takes his hand, looking anywhere but at Ten when he says, “If you’re around, I won’t be.”

His slowly reddening ears match the blush Ten feels on his own cheeks. This is getting a little too sappy.

“Good. Now get up. I’ll make us coffee and you can practice your singing for me. I’ve got high expectations! You’d better not let me down.”

“Fine, but can I have tea instead?”

“With honey?”

“Yes, please.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you read this whole thing and are seeing this end note, tell me what your fave doten moments are in the comments! and what kinds of cute things you'd like to see them do together. i'll go first, I want to see doten on one of those cute swan boats you find in manmade lakes, just holding hands and peddling, maybe bickering about who is doing less work (ten, undoubtedly)
> 
> thank you for reading! it means so much to me :D


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